


Redemption

by merryminstrel



Series: Tales of Destiny [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: ...But not TOO slow, Abduction, Angst and Feels, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Canon-Typical Violence, Dalish Lore, Desire, Dragon Age Lore, Dreams, Dreamsharing, Elvhen Lore, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fade Dreams, Fade Shenanigans, Feels, Kidnapping, Love, Mages (Dragon Age), Magic, Mystery, Original Character(s), POV First Person, Post-Canon, Post-Trespasser, Romance, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Solas Being Solas, Some Humor, Some Sex, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-03-31 17:39:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 76,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13980156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merryminstrel/pseuds/merryminstrel
Summary: “You are exactly what they say you are. A traitorous egomaniac, a thief! Every word out of you is poison! You might wear that face and fool all the world, but you don’t fool me. You’re hideous inside, a monster.”Arlenna Rutherford, a lively, just a little too impatient young woman, had only ever known a life of safety – beside the oddity that she’d been born elven. Her biggest worry: The Circle denies her Harrowing, delaying. Again. But she is about to have her world turned upside-down. Soon, she has to face the fact that nothing in her sedate life is quite what it seems. When a man once believed a god has plans for you, you might find yourself torn from home, tossed into a maze of secrets and schemes. Left fumbling in the dark, caught between forces of tremendous power. A dangerous game, the rules of which only the Dread Wolf might fully understand.No-frills summary: Post-Trespasser, Beauty and the Beast theme, Abduction theme, Lore & Magic rich, (somewhat) Slow Burn Romance story, with Angst and Feels and much Solas-Drama. Of course, tension and some sexy times! First person POV. Contains major Spoilers to the first part of the series Resolution, but can be read independently.





	1. I. Gem of Fire

**Author's Note:**

> _Twenty-five years have passed since Inquisitor Shenlira Lavellan learned about the true identity of her closest friend – and his destructive obsession to raise the glory of the old elves from the ashes. Nobody had heard anything about the Dread Wolf for a decade, and so the threat of his presence has faded out of memory across Thedas. Not so for Cullen and Shenlira. They had been warned. He would one day come to take their daughter away, with or without their permission. And the Dread Wolf makes no idle threats. Driven by unshakable purpose, he wants to use Arlenna’s power for his own means. Easier said than done, for the young woman is quite the character… And if that would not be enough, there are still things at work in the shadows, things even the Dread Wolf did not foresee…_
> 
> **Author’s Note:**  
>  After I had finished the story of [Resolution](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13476675/chapters/30898917), I had a feeling that I was not quite done writing Dragon Age romance fanfiction. I have learned a lot of things from writing Resolution and could not resist trying to apply them in something new. Solas’ fate had been left open, both in the game and my tale, and I started thinking… Then began something on a whim. I wish to keep this story shorter than the first one, and more fast-paced – the fun practically starts off the first chapter. You will meet many characters from the game again, and a few new ones. But mostly you will be seeing a lot of Solas – and Arlenna, as she struggles to hate him, a task that is ultimately doomed to failure.  
> After all, every wolf deserves to have his day, no matter how misguided he is. Oh wait.
> 
> **An important thing:** Redemption is the second part of the series, but it can pretty much be **read independently**. If you like the Cullen x Inquisitor Lavellan pairing though and enjoy sweet, slow burn romances, I can only recommend reading Resolution first, since this story contains major **Spoilers to the main plot**.
> 
> ****  
> **Rated E (Explicit)** for sexual content (which is not very explicit but walks a fine line) in several chapters and many suggestive things before. Also a few (not too graphic, but still) descriptions of violence.
> 
> I write for fun and as before, I would like to note that English is not my native language. Any mistakes or strange choice of words or grammar... I apologize for that.
> 
> Oh and.. eh, as I understood it in the game, Solas has the characteristics of an Evanuris - therefore he **does not age** (he slept for who-knows-how-long and did not age, for example). I hope it doesn't seem too weird that this takes place 25 years after Trespasser. In any case, he hasn't changed a bit age-wise.
> 
> Now let’s get cracking! Enjoy, have fun, and if you like it, please comment, post me what you liked, anything! Those are the things that keep me going.

###  **I. Gem of Fire**

_You were a bundle of pudgy limbs and pink skin, and a headful of ginger wisps flying around your head. Already demanding attention with a resolute voice._  
_“Where did you come from?”, I marvelled, touching your tiny pointed ears. “Are you really mine?” Your answer was a blaming gurgle._  
_“Cullen Stanton Rutherford, you are embarrassing yourself. And me.” Ah, that sharp censure. I smiled wider. The wife took me too seriously, still. Of course you are mine. And you are perfect, Maker help me._  
_“I couldn’t resist.”, I told Lira. “What should we name her?” A short silence._  
_“I have a feeling that she will take the world by storm. She is Arlenna. I-Am-Fated.”_

* * *

 

 

My world had lost all anchor. Legs and arms dangled, flopping around carelessly with each lurch, head lolling like a limp sack of sand. A hard edge of metal – a shoulder-guard, I assumed – pressed into the pit of my stomach painfully, the pangs coming in rhythm with the steps. My hair flew in a halo of fox-coloured locks around my upside-down face, obscuring vision as I worked my throat to issue a sound, any sound, a yelp, a scream, whatever. Only none came. I had been muted, not just voice but body and magic too, everything that could have made me resist paralyzed.

Inwardly, I raged. I screamed and flailed and hated with a fury. I was being abducted. Taken. On my goddamn birthday. A strong arm squeezed me to quell those emotions, to make me even more silent, as if that were possible. Bastard! The corridors of my home rushed past, shadowed furniture and dark, framed pictures. All a blur. I prayed, prayed that someone was still awake in the house – there! A flicker of candle-light from the library, the door open, just a tiny crack. I felt my kidnapper stiffen and pick up the pace.

Footsteps thudded across the floor and between the woolliness of my hair and my drooping head, I glimpsed my mother, illuminated by a golden streak. She was in her dressing gown, a book held lazily in her hand. I felt the mad urge to grin. What a sight that must have been! Her daughter slung over the shoulder of a hooded madman, like a life-size puppet. It could have been a scene written in some sensational adventure novel.  

“ _Vhenan_ , is that y-“, she fell silent for one heartbeat, before shock flooded her face, followed by understanding. And ire. Oh, so much ire. Decades of it. “ _Cullen! It’s him! He has Arlenna_!”

* * *

_Twelve hours earlier…_

“They are delaying it, again!” I knew my voice was just short of a yell when I slammed the brittle parchment down on the desk. A wonder it did not crumble from the force. The Circle of Magi insignia glinted mockingly in the midday sunlight, like some snickering jester’s face. My father flinched, quill tilting but not quite slipping from his hand. He let out a sigh that I knew by heart and lifted his head to gift me with a thorough scowl. It threw me right back into childhood. Despite closing in on fifty-six winters, his sight was still impeccable, tawny eyes as sharp as ever. Sharp and rebuking.

“Arlenna… I wondered what the ruckus outside was about.”, he murmured fatalistically. I slumped into the chair across the desk without ceremony, uncaring that my expensive silk dress wrinkled in the process. My father first surveyed me, then the signed letter I had so recklessly thrust under his nose. Light reflected off the silver strands in his blonde hair, making him look like an aging lion. I smirked secretly, knowing my mother would have much appreciated the comparison. I would have to tell her later.

Right now, the letter was my more immediate concern. And source of my rage. Damn those conservative cods at the Circle. It was the third time they delayed my Harrowing for another year – without so much as a coherent explanation. _After due consideration, it is deemed by the First Enchanter that the apprentice should continue training before undergoing this arduous and complex task…_ A load of horse-rubbish. I was ready. I knew it, they knew it, my family knew it. The latter mostly because they bore the bulk of my frustration after each rejection, for which I should have felt sorry… If I hadn’t been so busy feeling angry instead.

“I am sorry that they rejected you again, Ari.”, my father’s deep voice roused me from stewing. A frown had crept to his noble brow, putting more lines on his face, and I instantly regretted overreacting so childishly. Still, he didn’t seem all that sorry. Not surprising, really. Da had always been the pinnacle of overprotectiveness. If it were his choice, he would have kept me living in an ivory tower for the rest of my life.

For as long as I could remember, I’d needed to be cautious, kept safe, never allowed to wander off lest I tripped over some dangerous escapade. My brother, on the other hand… Complete freedom, no restrictions for him, the shameless flirt. He travelled the city at his leisure, while I had to resort to every trick in the book if I wanted to sneak out for an evening. And contrary to him, I had to endure lengthy lectures if I got caught. When I got caught, more like. My parents had an uncanny talent of sensing my little excursions, and one of them would usually wait for me in the parlour by candlelight, a lecture at the ready. For years, their exaggerated shepherding had annoyed me to no end, especially when I’d wanted nothing more than to have an adventure of my own.

Tomorrow, I’d be turning twenty. My life seemed a dull road leading to nowhere in particular. Still, I had lately started wondering if there was more to my family’s obsession with my safety than I saw. It just felt so… I don’t know, off. They never quite appeared satisfied enough when rebuking me for some reckless journey out of bounds, more as if it was just as unpleasant for them as it was for me.

“Da? You know I love you, right?”, I ventured, calling on my father’s attention. Something in my voice must have alarmed him, for a look of trepidation flashed across his features. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. I pressed on. “You wouldn’t be… pulling strings to keep the Circle from issuing my Harrowing, would you?” Da paled, eyes widening.

“Of course I wouldn’t. Maker, have I given you the impression that I might be so overbearing?”, he sounded shocked. I shook my head vigorously, regretting that I even brought the question up. My father would have pulled the sun down from the sky for me, if I’d asked for it. Why did my frustration exile all reason and replace it with doubt instead?

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean that… It’s just… Why are they stalling? I passed all preliminary tests. I just can’t see any reason for them to delay. I’m ready. I am!” My anger reared up again, unwilling to stay controlled and quiet. _Too impulsive_ , the teachers had chided from day one. _You are being too rash_ , mother reprimanded me when I pulled the reins of her horses impatiently. Patience, they all preached in an unending chorus.

Well, I was fresh out of that. Without noticing it, a small spark of fire had sprung to life in my palm, little flaming tendrils dancing over my skin. It tickled, almost merrily, before it died an instant later. I looked at my empty hand curiously, then met my father’s gaze. He reached smoothly over the wide desk, warm fingers closing around mine. The peculiar sensation of his… magic – I had no better word for it – caught me unaware.

Somewhere in the distant past, he had been a templar, one of the mighty warriors who guarded folk against the dangers of magic. They called upon the real world and made it go solid, abolishing any spell or energy that would be drawn from the Fade. Da had been an expert in that particular skill, so much so that even decades later, templars would seek him out for tutelage. He employed it now, to banish my tiny emotional outbreak, although it felt very carefully tempered. Not shackles to lock me down, but rather a fine thread around my wrist, tugging me to focus. It was a familiar feeling, known countless times over the course of my life. I wondered what would happen if he’d use the full force of his will, and then suddenly hoped never to witness it.

“You are drifting off, little sprite.”, he remarked gently, squeezing my hand. He still called me that, although I had grown taller than my mother years ago. Then he let go and leaned back into his chair, exhaling in a tired sort of way. “Where is your mother?” His gaze swept once around the study, as though he somehow expected her to manifest in answer, which of course she didn’t.

I had always liked Da’s study. The templar sword and shield on the wall behind his desk, the rows and rows of books crammed into towering shelves. Around midday, the sun would hit the high, lead glass windows and throw a vibrant shaft of light right through the middle of the room, across the gigantic oak desk and the thick rugs, the polished wooden floor. As a child, I used to dance in circles through that rainbow, marvelling at the reflections on my skin, imagining I was a magician who could paint her whole little world with her favourite colours… The memory made me smile.

“Out riding, probably. Or with Uncle Varric.” Those were usually good guesses. My uncle – well, he was only an uncle by name, not a real relative – had visited us every Saturday for dinner, as far back as I could remember. He was an old friend of the family and godfather to both me and my brother Cassian. I liked him a great deal, especially his stories about epic adventures with the Champion of Kirkwall, or the times when he’d fought in the Inquisition with my parents. They were almost too fantastic to believe sometimes.

And each year on my birthday, he would give me some hilarious, incredibly witty gift. What might it be this year…? At least once a week, my mother rode the little distance to his estate and spent the whole afternoon playing Wicked Grace. As a little girl, I’d managed to wheedle her into taking me too, every now and then. Da cleared his throat.

“Probably for the better… Come, I’d like to show you something.” Intrigued, I followed him through the hallway into the library. Specks of dust floated jauntily between the sunlit shelves, above the wide reading settees.

All woodwork here was mahogany – matching the burgundy drapes, the plush orleisian furnishings. Elegant and cosy, at the same time. I could get lost in heroic tales for hours here. Or spell-books. There were few things I enjoyed more than reading. I loved playing the piano, a great instrument that had hailed from Orleis and had made its way to the Free Marches about a decade ago. But other than that…

Da went to one of the back shelves and pulled a carefully rolled-up scroll from its depths. He broke the seal without much fuss and unrolled it. We sat down on one of the sofas as he placed the faded parchment on my lap. Our family tree. There was my father’s side, going back about ten generations. On the left, Mum’s side, considerably shorter, almost meagre. I didn’t quite understand why he would show me this. I’d seen exactly the same a thousand times. It hung on display in the study. No, wait. Not exactly the same. There, from grandmother Mariel’s name…

“When we accepted the titles of Count and Countess, we were more or less obligated to provide a documentation of origin. I thought they meant it as a bad joke first. Neither of us came from noble heritage. Your mother is Dalish, for Maker’s sake. I doubt any Dalish elf has held a title in… ever. And me… Templar turned general turned nobleman. We were trailblazers.”, Da explained. The slight curve of his lips slackened when he went on, though. “This is the first version of our family tree. I think it is time that you… understand a few things.”

He pointed at the name next to Mariel Lavellan. It read: Marcus Vilerian. They were connected by a dotted line, slashed twice through the middle, from where another line in the same style went down to one Orianna Vilerian. I’d studied genealogy with my tutor. Dotted line, sliced twice… Relations without marriage. Child out of wed-lock. And to her right, Shenlira Rutherford, former Lavellan.

“Mum had a sister? I had an aunt on her side?” I was dumbstruck. My father nodded heavily. He suddenly looked old. Withered.

“Half-sister. It is a part of our past that very few know about. A dark tale that, your mother especially, does not wish to remember.” And then he proceeded to tell me a story I would never have believed if it hadn’t come from my upstanding, down-to-earth father. Grandmother Mariel had in truth been Mar’Alenna, an infamous maleficar whose exploits were marked down in cautionary chapters about blood magic, even fifty years after her active time.

She’d birthed a firstborn daughter by a templar – Marcus Vilerian – in secret and hidden her away after almost being killed by her vengeful lover. The child, Orianna, had grown up to become an exceptionally skilled mage, another maleficar, who made it her life’s quest to take revenge on my mother for a miserable existence in the shadows. After a failed assassination attempt, they tracked her down in Wycome, where the mad woman kidnapped and tortured my father. Both Mar’Alenna and Orianna had died after turning into abominations. Willingly. Mages possessed by demons.

I felt all colour flee from my face as I listened to my father’s detailed account. What a gruesome secret they had kept. Yet… Why was he telling me this now? It wasn’t as if this had anything to do with – Oh but it had. Like a punch to my stomach, I realized –

“The Circle knows.” My voice sounded dead. Toneless. Heat returned to my skin. Heat and anger. “It’s the reason why they delay my Harrowing.”

“Yes.”, Da said regretfully. “We had to inform them about dangerous magic that might run in the family. It would have been irresponsible not to. I am so sorry, Ari… Your mother and I never quite saw eye to eye about this issue. I wanted you to join the Circle, so you’d learn to use magic responsibly, controlled and safe. Your mother, on the other hand, wanted you to learn with the Keeper and her First, of Lavellan. But that would mean to send you far away… It… caused a few sleepless nights.”

I remembered. Faintly. Remembered them arguing, waking up to raised voices when I was little, especially after my abilities started manifesting more openly. But I was too insulted to feel sympathy.

“And you thought you’d tell me this after I had been rejected three times? Three years, father! You should have told me the moment I got the first letter. No, you know what? Even before that, way before! How could you keep this from me?!” My voice gained volume, further and further, the more I understood the hypocrisy of it all.

Trust, trust, trust, they had glorified that word and its meaning, while holding such a monumental thing back from me. How was that fair?! It bordered on a lie. I had never seriously fought with my parents before. Not this way. Now they received the payback for those docile years in the past.

It was ugly. I yelled and raved, uncaring that I delivered blow after hurtful blow. Half-way through, my mother returned from wherever she’d been and I lashed out at her even more. She’d always been private, secretive. Certainly it had been her who’d sworn my father to silence about the whole mess. I am not proud of the names I called her. Liar, deceitful, mistrusting even of her own daughter!

The wild accusations I threw out made them wince as though daggers had struck them. I would never be accepted into the Circle with two maleficar in my immediate blood-line. Two abomination incidents. I would never become a real mage, and it was their fault! And the worst of it all, they didn’t even try to defend themselves. Not really. My tantrum went down some bottomless hole of patience, but the offense that bloomed on their faces whipped back at me like barbed wire. _Let us explain, Ari – We wanted to protect you – We love you_ – Until I couldn’t bear to look at them anymore.

I turned and fled. Somewhere, anywhere. Just away from them. They let me. I took to the streets blindly, without direction, just following my feet. But Kirkwall was a city full of people, and they all seemed incredibly curious about the peculiar young elf rushing sightlessly along the cobbled path. Even more so in Hightown, where folk had little else to do but to drink tea and gossip. Solitude. How wonderful it would be sometimes. I darted around a neatly painted corner until the shadows enveloped me. Still the feeling of being watched did not dissipate. One could never truly be alone in a place like this. I leaned against the wall, sliding down.

Shame is an ugly thing. We can seldom experience it without a mistake leading our way. Fervour may put us into an opaque haze, but when it dwindles, shame stands ready. It forces us to look upon every thoughtless action, every impulse we gave in to without consideration. I felt shame seep into me now, as I sat there, arms around my knees and head bowed. I had said terrible things to my parents. Two people who loved me to distraction. Childishly stupid.

Too rash, impatient, impulsive. No point denying the fact that those characterizations of me were completely true. I had known for a long time now that I wasn’t what others deemed… normal. I hadn’t even been normal when I arrived in this world. Elven, born to a human father and an elf mother. It just didn’t happen. An oddity. Such unions exclusively brought forth human children. But here I was. No wild speculation about my origin remained that I hadn’t heard before. The favourite of evil tongues being that I was the product of a sordid affair my mother had with an elf. Fools. Why did I have my father’s eyes, then, geniuses?

Also, take one goddamn look at my parents together. Affairs, as if! They were… Head over heels for each other. Madly. Still. The affection tended to be off-putting, as a daughter. And sometimes, I wondered if I would ever find a person who would love me in such a way. Without reservations, completely, strengths and flaws and all. The bar had been set… high. I let out a heavy breath. Time to return, before someone sent a guard after me.

I stood again, pondering for a moment the unpleasant immediate future, where I would need to apologize for my outburst. Oh joy… I had done wrong. I knew that. Facing the consequences was a part of life… It didn’t mean I looked forward to it. Out on the street, pedestrians walked by, going about their usual business. Except for one figure. Hooded, dressed in inconspicuous linens. He stood on the opposite side, face shrouded in shadows. I had the distinct feeling that he was looking at me. I blinked, uneasiness creeping up on me. Don’t be paranoid, I chided myself. And then some tall nobleman passed by and the stranger was… gone. I wondered if I’d imagined him.  

After that, I was more than glad to return to the safety of home.  Mum and Da were waiting for me in the hall, and I went through my meek apology more or less graciously. They did not bear grudge. I wondered, not for the first time, how many discordant families there were out in the world, how many stubborn kin held back forgiveness from each other, hurting, resenting. It made me resolve to be more grateful for what I had. My life might not be perfect. And yet, I’d never known misery, violence or poverty. I was loved, cherished, kept safe, like a priceless treasure. Luckier than most. A child of the sun. Why did I never stop longing for more?

“You will be a true mage, Ari. The Circle rejects you, and so what? This isn’t thirty years ago, when mages were confined to towers with a hatchet looming above their heads.”, Mum brought me out of my musings. We were sitting at the table after dinner, and she eyed me hopefully. “There are other ways. Keeper Iraya’s offer still stands. Or the Free Academy in Val Royeaux. Of course, we would need to talk about the specifics… Arrange living conditions…” My father frowned at her, but kept his silence.

“What about your old Inquisition friends? You had a whole coterie of amazing mages! It would be incredible to be tutored by one of them. Who was the best?”, I asked her in the wake of a sudden epiphany. Her heart-shaped face, still striking even at her age, went pale as a sheet. Oh-oh. What now? Had I said something wrong? She looked as though I’d just asked her how many children she’d murdered lately. At the other end of the table, Da went rigid in his chair, his features hardening. Something was not right. A lingering moment of silence passed, before my father spoke in a deliberately light voice.

“Actually, that idea is not half-bad. We should write to Dorian. He is retired now, so he is likely bored out of his mind. Isn’t that right, love?” Mum had been staring blankly into space, now she seemed to flinch back into herself. I pushed the last piece of parsley venison around on my plate, intrigued.

“Yes, of course. What a great idea. We shall take up correspondence with Dorian at once. And maybe Vivienne too. She still leads the Val Royeaux Circle. They would both be excellent teachers. Their good word might even change the Circle’s mind. Although Vivienne hasn’t exactly mellowed over the years. What did Varric call her, _vhenan_?” Just a little too much enthusiasm rang in her tone. I had a distinct suspicion that I was missing some crucial information.

“The Iron Maiden.”, Da answered at once.

The conversation veered to some mildly boring, innocent topics. They talked about this and that in an animated fashion while I listened, not quite interested. My brother Cassian’s latest exploits with some hare-brained noble lady, the expenses for his personal lodgings and how his studies at the university were going. He was five years my elder, a student of law and diplomacy, intending to become ambassador. Also what I would call an eternal bachelor. Charming, devilishly handsome, and he could turn a phrase so well, he might one day talk a tiger out of its stripes. Which made him maddeningly popular with the twittering females of Hightown.

Still, he’d always been a caring brother to me, and whenever I visited him at the fashionable, two-story housing he inhabited, we’d spend an evening out on the town with his exuberant friends. Things always came easily to him, somehow. An ill-natured part of me felt a little jealous of him from time to time. Maybe I should work on that too…

“So, Ari…” Da began, drawing my attention. I realized I had been drifting off again. It happened a lot. My head liked to roam the clouds. “We know your birthday is not until tomorrow. But your mother and I would like to give you your present today.” He pushed a small, nondescript box towards me on the tablecloth. Mum circled the table to stand by his side. They both smiled.

“See it as a promise from us. We will do everything in our power so the past does not hinder you in becoming the best mage that you can be.”, she said. A keen emotion dwelled in her grey eyes. I swallowed.

“You’re not to blame… Either of you. I’m sorry I even – I didn’t mean to. I was angry and frustrated…” Well, so much for being eloquent. I sounded rather childish instead.

“We know. Now go on, open it!”, my father encouraged.

Before I did, I wiped my hands clean surreptitiously on my mauve day dress – earning a scowl from both of them. Typical. As I lifted the lid from the box, I couldn’t suppress a gasp. Inside, on a bed of dark velvet, lay a beautiful necklace. Filigree golden links made up the chain, so thin and delicate that I wondered what kind of craftsman would be able to create such a thing. But the pendant… Oh, the pendant!

A scarlet, teardrop-shaped gem in a pristine gold setting. It glowed from the inside out, a kaleidoscope of colours reflected in its ruby depths. Fractures of light filtered through the stunning stone, danced on the skin of my palm as I picked it up, so carefully. I stared, mesmerized. Rose, blood-red, vermillion. Hues I had no name for. From the corner of my eye, I saw my parents exchange satisfied looks with each other.

“Mum… Da… It’s incredible.” And it truly was.

“It’s a fire gem. They are very rare, each a unique, slightly different shade. A little magic resides inside every one of them. The people of Nevarra believe that fire gems are the shards of a dragon’s heart. Filled with a living fire.” Mum helped me secure the chain around my neck. The fire gem rested against my breastbone, warm to the touch.

“It suits you.”, my father said with a smile. “Happy birthday, Ari.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This first chapter deals with some family issues and introduces Arlenna's world. Her strong family ties are a very important part of her that I wished to dedicate some time to. Of couse, the focus will be drawn to her very own adventure soon, but I just couldn't resist showing a glimpse of Cullen and Shenlira as worried parents. Gnehehe.


	2. II. Come Midnight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, thank you for the kudos!! I was a bit surprised. Especially because the first chapter has not even started the REAL fun! But this one does.  
> My upload schedule will seem a little irregular, because I'll have much work to do on my university studies in the next two weeks. I live in Europe, but try to match my uploads more to EST. Also I like having chapters in reserve so I can upload seamlessly (funnily enough, that keeps me motivated to finish a story). 
> 
> But now...  
> Come midnight, the Wolf stalks...

###  **II. Come Midnight**

_For two decades, I searched. For there to be another way. I did not want to do this. Anything, but this. I am Pride, and yet I have none. The irony. Because in the end, I knew I would do it, commit this crime, deliver this last great insult, no matter what kind of monster it made me. On the path I walk, there is no such thing as coincidence, only the illusion of it. I sealed my fate long ago.  
Fen’Harel_

* * *

 

 

Even hours later, I lay on my bed by the light of a single candle, marvelling at the landscapes of colour hidden in the jewel’s core. As far as birthday presents went, this deserved to be put on the top shelf. My eyelids grew heavy at the hypnotic display and I drifted off to sleep, faintly noting that I hadn’t even changed into my nightshirt.

Dreams. They had always been vivid, lifelike, of a substance so rich that my mind often slipped and struggled waking me. I walked a labyrinth of mirrors now, dozens upon dozens. As though time had frozen in the middle of shattering a dome of glass. A crystal spire rose before me in the distance. Flawless, not of this world. Waterfalls tumbled from floating planes like stardust scattered to the wind. In between ancient trees who had witnessed the beginning of our time stood towers of ivory, so white and so perfect. I felt sad looking at them and briefly wondered why. A red sky spread out above, with a crimson sun burning at its zenith. The heavens were on fire.

And behind it all, six eyes watched me from the shadows. Watched me. Pierced me. Knew truths horrifying and lies destructive. Knew weeping beauty and pitiful ugliness. Knew me. _I have come for you._

I woke with a jolt, shivers skittering along my spine like thousands of tiny ants. My heart tossed itself wildly against the wall of my chest, thud-thud-thudding all the way into my eardrums. I looked around. The room lay in complete darkness. My candle must have gone out. One floor below, the great grandfather clock in the parlour struck midnight. It gave me such a start that I wanted to run down there and smash it with a brick. A soft, summer breeze blew through my open balcony doors. The white gauze curtains flittered playfully.

But I couldn’t remember… Opening them… My heart dived. Dived and dived without stopping. I felt every hair stand to an end and fear swallow me whole. Because I was not alone. Someone stood in the shadows the moonlight did not reach. My eyes teared up with the strain to see the trespasser. There, a silhouette. A mere outline.

And then it separated from the darkness and lunged. I opened my mouth, but the scream never came to be. The figure grabbed hold of me and in that touch, magic surged like a hurricane. A deluge. All of my muscles went motionless. Slack. Control slipped from my fingers, tongue turned to lead. I could do nothing as the intruder offhandedly threw me over his shoulder. Muscular arms, broad shoulders. It had to be a man.

Oh Maker, what was happening?! I was going to be killed. He’d kill me – Everything suddenly shifted, and we were in motion, out the door. Down the winding corridors to the first floor, where my wonderful, night-owl of a mother was still awake, reading in the library. She heard. She heard! I thanked all higher power for her odd habits.

“ _Cullen! It’s him! He has Arlenna_!” Her scream could have woken a dead man. It certainly did wake the entire estate. But the next moment we rounded a corner and darkness fell again. Sounds trailed behind us though, frantic shuffling of feet, yells and doors being ripped open. _You will not get away, bastard. My father will run you down and kill you like a rabid dog._ The moment I formed that savage thought, I sensed something stir in my abductor. It seeped through the layers of armor and clothing, skin to skin, mind to mind, as though he wanted me to understand. To sympathize. Guilt. An ocean of guilt that he had to do this, to me, to my parents. And also purpose. There was no other way. It had to be.

I didn’t know if he’d feel my answer, but I battered my rage against him although I had no voice. He shuddered and staggered just a bit, giving me a rush of satisfaction. Good. If he deluded himself into getting my consent for ambushing me in my home, he’d wait until the Maker’s Day of Reckoning!

We continued the devil-may-care flight in which I was less a participant than an observer, but I felt his strength waning. Carrying a live body – even one of a young woman – all through the countless winding corridors of Vigil’s End would take a toll on anyone. His breath came fractured and the before sure steps slowed a little, but he ploughed stubbornly on. I heard glass shatter, and the next moment we soared, out a window on the first floor. For the fraction of a second, I saw my father storm into the corridor, sword in hand, my mother at his heels, bow held high – an arrow zoomed past us, missing my kidnapper’s leg by an inch. _Damn it, Mum! You never miss_ –

We landed on the flowerbeds, uncomfortably hard. All coherent thought was slammed from my mind by the impact. The man groaned in pain and buckled over, but to my infinite frustration, he gathered himself again. Survival instinct, probably. He knew what was coming for him, I surmised by the trickle of unease that carried over to me. This had not gone at all the way he’d planned. He did not want to face my parents, look into their faces, feel their searing hatred –

“Release my daughter you fucking coward or you won't see the light of day!” My father, as I had never heard him. Fire and steel had forged his voice. Even I was frightened by it.

We flew again. Galvanized by some inner demon, or maybe the unveiled threat against him, my hijacker ran across the moon-flooded gardens, darted between elderberry bushes and into the hedge-maze. Fool! I wallowed in glee. He would be caught, for the maze was a dead-end. Nothing there but a giant, faded mirror that served no purpose except the one of being a pretty sight. And yet… Mirrors… Something about mirrors the Enchanter had said… One could bewitch them to be connected, look into one and see what the other side shows. No, that was menial magic. Mirrors as gateways, old enchantments, too complex to be reproduced by Circle mages. Eluvians.

It had never occurred to me before that my parents might have an ancient elvhen gateway standing around in their garden. _Why?_ , I thought wretchedly. No time to contemplate. We had reached the centre of the maze and the man holding me captive came to a halt. I sensed him evoke magic, in an utterly alien way. Elegant, effortless, flowing like a shimmering piece of silk. It reminded me of my mother’s songs, the voice that so naturally left her lips to form a beautiful melody.

The spell this man weaved died mere seconds after it had begun though, and from the depths of the hedges came my parents with half our house guard. The force of my father’s lockdown was staggering. It made my ears pop as though the air had suddenly thinned, lost pressure – the whole area plunged into magical vacuum. An eerie sensation, like being blindfolded, deafened and silenced all at once. But I revelled in it, enormously grateful.

“Da! Mum!” My voice returned, together with the control over my body, and I made good use of both. I thrashed wildly in my kidnapper’s grip until I saw my mother’s desperate face as she aimed her bow, hands trembling. She could not shoot while I struggled. I went still.

“Move even an inch and you die, Dread Wolf.”, her words cracked, sharp as whip. What? Dread Wolf? That name… It was impossible not to have heard it at some point, although the stories have faded from people’s minds over the years. But not in my family. My mother had known the man once believed to be a god, fought with him in her time as Inquisitor, before he betrayed her and disappeared on a mad quest of his own. I had not been told any of this by her, since she adamantly refused talk about the issue. Rather I’d ferreted out some loose pieces of information from their correspondences with old Inquisition associates, like Aunt Leliana and my godmother, Divine Victoria. Treacherous ambition, self-justice, ruthless, dangerous, obsessed. Those were the words they used when describing him.

For over a decade, nobody had heard a thing about the Dread Wolf. People’s memories were short that way, and so his threatening presence had dwindled out of remembrance, becoming a mere ghost few feared anymore.

The man turned infinitesimally. A jolt of his magic hit me as his arm clamped down even tighter. I was paralyzed once more, and realized he’d been gentle the first time. He shouldn’t have been able to cast a sorry echo of a spell inside the nullification field, and yet power churned inside him, a river bursting its banks. A hammer-strike to the senses. I went motionless, my parents’ silhouettes flickering before my eyes. No… No…

“I gave you due warning, _Da’Assan_.”, Dread Wolf spoke. Measured, calm. Calculating and cold.

“Don’t you dare speak that name!”, she hissed. “I told you, over my dead body will you take her.”, her voice matched his in chill. But I feared for her, and my father. Both in their mid-fifties, their fighting years well behind them. Damn it, they should not be taking up weapons! Mum’s heart wasn’t as strong as it used to be, her hand weakened by extensive burn marks. Could this man really have fought by their side, half a century ago? He moved with a youthful ease, in body at least, as though he hadn’t aged a day since that time.

“I do not wish for that. You were given time. Twenty years. Stand down, old friends. I will not delay any longer.” My father growled, a sound of utter menace that raised every hair on my nape. His face was livid, chiselled from hurt, betrayal and rage.

Frantically, I tried to summon any kind of resistance, it didn’t matter which, for I sensed the Eluvian coming alive behind me, its magic rippling like a disturbed pond. In that instant, my father lunged. The templar sword swung, scythed through the air with a swish, a glinting silver arc. The Dread Wolf sidestepped gracefully and I watched his gloved hand make a swift gesture, dislocating the blade from its course with a subtle, almost imperceptible spell. It missed by a hair’s breadth.

But my mother’s arrow did not. They were like clockwork, like two limbs of the same body. The strike had merely been a distraction so she could take a precise shot. Several things happened at once: The arrow buried into my captor’s arm and he was thrown backwards from the force. A sound of pain escaped him, yet he turned mid-fall, pushing himself off the stone pedestal.

Mum and Da cried out with one voice as the mirror’s shining blue surface swallowed the Dread Wolf, and me with him. The haunting echo of a scream followed us, bouncing around in the endless space.

“ _I’ll get you for this Solas, if it’s the last thing I do!”_

* * *

 

We fell. Through mist, shadow and star-strewn skies, in a dizzying whirl that made my stomach turn. He held on to me like a vice, and in this strange world between worlds I felt his bottomless sorrow that it had all come to this. He bled it out into the void, but I repelled it, pushed at him, not wanting to feel those things. Never would he get pity from me. Never. Tears stung my eyes, if from the wind that whipped my face or my misery, I wouldn’t know.

Then, with a flash of azure light, we were thrown towards reality again. The Eluvian spit us out into a clearing of dark green and I had a mere glimpse of tall trees before I slumped to the ground unceremoniously. Dread Wolf lost his grip on my body and fell over beside me, panting. Serves you right! Soft, damp moss tickled my cheek. I saw nothing but the fuzzy curtain of my own hair and some undefinable shadows beyond that. Still paralyzed. The indignity of the situation was not lost on me. At the scuffling noises and the groan behind me, I drew some satisfaction from the fact that my kidnapper had not escaped unscathed. If only my mother had shot him right through the heart. Or the neck.

“I can sense that, you know.”, Dread Wolf remarked. He sounded as though he had a hard time breathing. Pain laced his voice, and still it somehow managed to come across as arrogant, cold.

“You need to… Control your emotions better.” An ugly ripping noise cut him short, followed by a muted yelp. Well, he deserved an ounce of credit for removing the arrow without screaming like an animal. That must have hurt something fierce. Mum had not shot to kill, which baffled me. Why? Why, why, why, that seemed to quickly become the perpetual epithet of my life.

I stiffened when hands touched my arm and shoulder. Tentative, with no intention to hurt. Not the iron grip from before, rather cautious and almost… gentle. He turned me over, and for the first time, I saw the face of the man who had torn me from my home. The black fur hood had slipped to reveal him, pale in the moonlight. Elven, through and through. Aquiline, sharp contours formed his features, with high cheek-bones and a pointed chin. Not one hair grew upon his round head. He was completely bald, smooth and polished as a glass orb. Impossible to tell his age. He looked somewhat close to thirty, but… Ancient, fathomless eyes surveyed me so thoroughly I felt see-through. I could not discern their color. Blue? Grey? Green? Some of all, depending on the angle, I surmised. The aristocratic arc of his brows gave him a distinctly haughty look. Especially above those deep-set eyes. Cool. Above it all. And dangerous.

I’d expected a ruthless monster, but had to revise that now… This was an intelligent predator. A wolf. My heart sank. Ruthless monsters were predictable. I had no idea what he saw on my face, but a strong emotion flickered in his gaze, brief and fleeting. Melancholy? What did he have to be miserable about? He wasn’t the one gagged and helpless in the woods with a man capable of who knows what.

“I will not hurt you. I know that promise means little to you now, but if I had wanted to do you harm, I needn’t have gone through the ardour of… taking you away from Vigil’s End.” What a nice way to phrase it, as if I’d coerced him to abduct me! And now the fault that it had gone wrong lay with me. I supposed he was right, though. At least partially. He could have snapped my neck before I’d risen from my bed. Yet, people could do much worse things to each other than killing…

“Arlenna.”, he suddenly said, startling me. My name, spoken in the same musical cadence my mother and grandfather used.

“It means: _I am fated_. Did you know that?” I wondered how he expected me to answer, since the spell still bound my tongue to utter silence. Of course I knew that. No living thing beneath our roof had ever had a name without meaning, and my mother had educated me on mine when I’d been old enough to ask. Dread Wolf sighed in a tired manner, as if he found me immensely exhausting.

“I do not much care for one-sided conversations. Let me lift the muting enchantment from you. But be warned, if you scream, you lose the privilege of speech before you can utter another note.”, he stated matter-of-factly. I blinked. Sensation came back to my neck, throat and the general area of my head.

“Not because you might alert someone. There is no one here who’d help you escape for miles around. This is my forest. And I detest loud noises.” He leaned back, wincing. A strip of bloody cloth was wrapped around his arm, and I noted that he looked sallow, dull, like fabric bleached once too often.

“My name is Solas.”, he said in the tone of one introducing himself to a noble lady at a soiree. Under any other circumstance, it might have been civil. To me, it just roared with sarcasm.

“Like I give a flying fuck!”, I spat out. Grown up in a genteel household I might have, but I’d learned swearing at Uncle Varric’s knee, and my godfather had been a good teacher. The very best. I glared at Dread Wolf, or Solas, or whichever name he wished to call himself. I really did not care. Traitor, villain, bastard. Home-wrecker. All of those would have been just as fitting. A frown furrowed his high forehead, eyes turning forbidding.

“Do you make a habit of being rude and waspish to everyone? Let me say this now, before all else: It would make your life a lot easier if you would cooperate with me, Arlenna.” I readied another scathing remark, but he went on. “I told your parents that I would come for you one day. They could have prepared you, explained, even handed you over willingly, and this whole mess would have been avoided. But they chose not to. And here we are.”

That made me stop short. _It’s him! He has Arlenna! – I told you, over my dead body will you take her._ They had known. No doubt about it. My heart crumbled in its cage. I didn’t want to believe him, but the very bones of me knew it to be true. Sequestered upbringing, overprotective parents, the exaggerated, strange fright in their eyes when I’d disappeared for an evening of leisure… It all made sense now. They’d lived in terror that I might be taken from them. Why had they never told me, even as an adult? Was I not to be trusted with a threat that could impact my life so deeply? Turn it upside-down?

The violent outburst from the day before did not return to me. Instead, I felt a dull ache of betrayal, a sort of resentment that can only ever be experienced towards kin. First the thing with my late aunt and grandmother, the reason why the Circle of Magi was reluctant to allow my Harrowing. One maleficar in the family would have been enough to warrant caution, but two… A blaring sign-post of danger. And now this, the fact that my abduction had been heralded by the perpetrator who knows when. But it had never been deemed wise to share that information with the person it concerned! Solas kept his silence, regarding me pensively, the way a bird-watcher regarded some new, unknown specimen.

“Don’t fight me.” The words were soft, almost an appeal rather than a command. He reached forth and turned me over again. Primal fear struck me senseless for an instant, until I realized he was binding my hands together at my back. Not with shackles or rope. Ethereal chains wound around my wrists, dampening my magic abilities, as effective as any physical restraint. I protested. Vehemently.

“Until I am assured that you won’t bash in my head with the nearest stone you can find, I’m afraid you’ll have to endure this. Forgive me.”, I heard him murmur. A polite villain. How ironic, comical even.

“Up you go.” My muscles were granted permission to move with an electrifying jolt. A sure grip steadied me, then pulled me upward until I stood on wobbly legs. Well, so much for running. I felt like a drunk duck. A dirty, drunk duck, if my ruined, smudged dress was any indication. Solas seemed to lose even more color, if that was possible. He really didn’t look so well.

“ _Fate punishes the wicked_. Ever heard that saying?” I intended my words to cut, but for some reason I couldn’t fathom, the flash of hurt in his eyes didn’t please me as much as I hoped.

“I really wish there had been another way. I had no choice.” Anger flared inside me, a culmination of all the strain that had worn my patience thin during this longest of days.

“Oh do shut up, will you?! Everybody has a choice. Life itself is about choice!”, I barked at him. “If you don’t want to kill or torture me, what do you want then? Ransom? Revenge? What is this all about, _Dread Wolf_?!” My voice had risen to a yell now. A flock of birds cawed in alarm, taking flight from the nearest cluster of trees. I childishly wished I had wings too. Solas just looked at me. How could he be so maddeningly calm? The urge to wipe that tranquil look from his face made me clench my teeth. 

“You are a dead man, you know that, right? My father will hunt you down. He does not forgive a slight against his own. Better go searching for some barren rock to crawl under now, for woe upon you when he finds you.” That had to rattle him. But the traitor merely sighed.

“I know that. I have known him for longer than you walk this earth, and I am not fool enough to face him in open combat. My intention was never to be found in the first place.” He’d barely finished the sentence, before an array of icicles manifested from thin air, floating above us.

“No!”, I cried – too late. The projectiles soared in a flurry to hit their mark. I felt the chilly backdraft and watched in horror as the Eluvian’s silver glass burst apart. My own face reflected back a thousand times over as the shards rained down, down, down. A young woman, eyes wide, terrified, russet mane porcupined with leaves and twigs. The hope that someone, anyone, would come through the mirror to my rescue shattered together with it. I let out an enraged howl. From the very depths of me, a power came alive, a thing I had never known I possessed. Emerged like a rising sun, a blazing inferno. The chains melted, butter beneath my fire, and I flew at the man who’d stolen my freedom.

“Spirits!”, Solas uttered, but I was upon him. My lunge bore him to the ground. No stopping me. Hitting, biting, burning. Scratching with searing claws. I was a hideous, feral creature pushed too far. But my opponent wore armor, and despite his weakened state, his frustrating strength thwarted me. Not to mention, I faced a mage of unmeasured skill. He deflected, ice against my flare, smoke between my fingers.

“Arlenna! Stop this! Your rage, you reach too far into the Fade! At this rate-“ But he interrupted himself when I bit down onto the vulnerable patch of skin between glove and jerkin. I gloried in the grunt of pain. Whispers intruded upon my hazy thoughts, urging me on, asking if they could have a go too. They relished in my outburst, my pure undiluted emotions. _Share with us! Share your fury, your fire! Burn brighter, I-Am-Fated!_

“No! _Mar’aleth faras enshal_!”, Solas cried out, both in my head and in my ears, voice ringing like tambourines. His will overpowered mine, pushing me back into myself. Cooling. Calming. I had no real concept of what he did. It was as though he picked up the pieces of me scattering into all directions and reassembled them, tying knots so they would not escape again. As the fire receded, I had a moment of clarity that I’d been on the verge of doing something horrible. Awareness dawned on me again. I lay, cradled against something warm, surrounded by a pleasant fragrance. Peculiar, herbal… Cloves? And… Sage, yes. A hand pressed gently to my nape, un-gloved, skin to skin. With the touch came a fatigue that I couldn’t fight, nor did I want to.

“Such raw power… I was not mistaken…” Not more than a whisper. Did I hear a tingle of anxiety in it? Trepidation? Hesitance? Impossible to know for sure… The sleep spell washed over me and I welcomed the oblivion, the purge of all conscious thought. Still, one persistent question followed into the liberating slumber. What would become of me now? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be written from Solas POV, which I find very hard to do since he is such a complex character. But I gave it my best, so stay tuned! 
> 
> Translations:  
> Mar’aleth faras enshal! - Do not unravel, be whole! (This is a spell incantation, so the translation is a bit too literal. More freely: Hold yourself together.)


	3. III. Var'Thenerasan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for some Solas POV. He will have several chapters throughout the story, although capturing him is really daunting. I succeeded better later on, in the second of his POV chapters, but I like this one too. Especially how he can be such a condescending b... Ehr. No, I do love him. That behaviour is part of his charm :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some explanations to the names used in this chapter:   
> Las'amelin is a ritual that hails from the ancient elves, meaning 'To Grant A Name'. Rarely, elves decide to declare the meaning of a personal relationship to each other by giving the other person a private name that speaks of the unique bond they share. This is done only with very, very close friends, kin or mates. Using someone else's Las'amelin without permission is considered extremely rude and a breach of privacy. Sometimes, if the symbolic nature and other circumstances allow it, the permission for such an exchange is granted. 
> 
> Da'Assan - 'Little Arrow'. Solas' Las'Amelin for the former Inquisitor Shenlira Lavellan (now Rutherford). Shenlira was a skilled huntress and archer. Their friendship had been purely platonic, but very strong nevertheless. 
> 
> Sajnalin - 'He Who Guards'. Cullen's name, granted by Shenlira, his wife. After Solas and Cullen embarked on a dangerous journey to save the Inquisitor, he and Cullen exchanged the names Shenlira had given them. It symbolizes that they developed a friendship through her. 
> 
> Wolf Brother - The Inquisitor's name for Solas. She once states that, when they first met, he reminded her of 'a lone wolf who had lost his pack'. The name marks them as kindred spirits. She had a very hard time after learning of his betrayal, and outwardly shows no signs of ever forgiving him.

****

###  **III. Var’Thenerasan**

_Home is not a place. It is the singular point where our heart goes to sleep, feeling safe and sound, and our spirit wakes, energized and ready, among people we hold dear. What value does home have, if we walk its halls alone?_

* * *

 

 

For a slight, young woman, she was deceptively heavy. And becoming more so by the minute. But I suspected the cumbersome weight could be credited to my waning strength. Da’Assan had shot me. Not surprising, when one considered the circumstances. I’d been certain that my old friend would aim for my heart, mercilessly, to kill. But she had not. Even as I ripped her daughter from the safety of home, violating every oath that once bound our friendship, she did not have the heart to end me. A small part of me wished she’d been callous enough to do it. Rather that, than…

I sighed, readjusting the limp body draped over my shoulder. The arrow wound burned fiercely and I didn’t have time to heal it just now. Doubtful I even could. Sajnalin’s will had imbued that arrow, otherwise it shouldn’t have reached me. It would take some time until the resonance of that peculiar anti-magic would dissipate. So I kept on carrying Arlenna through the maze of trees, although it felt more as though I was dragging along a statue of lead.

Spirit Wilds, the humans called these parts, and very conveniently for me, few ever ventured into the mysterious, misty woods. A fitting name. Spirits indeed dwelled here, but for a different reason than the unsuspecting folk thought. An arcane beacon close by drew them, one of my more ingenious inventions.

Usually my followers needed a tiny spell to point out the way, but I had created the place – I sensed it no matter where or when I was. After passing through an opening of two jagged cliffs that stood like crossed swords, I stopped to catch my breath. I really shouldn’t have. With the air that filled my lungs came an intense, flowery scent. Sweet, dainty… Lily of the valley. The fragrance of such a delicate flower did not quite suit the irascible creature it belonged to.

Arlenna. I could still feel an echo of the raw power that had surfaced from her earlier. In the olden days of Elvhenan, she would have been called alshera, a Conduit. A mage who served as a channel of undiluted magic to fuel an Evanuris attempting some incredibly energy-consuming spell. Being a Conduit meant walking a dangerous line, even when the world had been whole. Taking too much could destroy the body. Holding the channel for too long could drain the spirit, burn it out, purge the mind of all intelligence.

She needed to learn control over her peculiar ability, and the incident at the Eluvian had only proven that. Anger had unleashed her and without thinking, she’d reached into the Fade and practically torn the energy from it. Too much, too quickly, leaving her exposed. An open door is not just a way out. It’s also a way in. So much I had to teach her, and she did not seem very happy at the outlook. I stepped into the inconspicuous grove, encircled either by sheltering cliffs to the West or tall oak trees to the East, and lifted one hand.

“ _Ir helas mir Fen’Harel, Var’Thenerasan_.” _Show yourself to the Dread Wolf, our place where dreams dwell._ And it did. The cloak of illusion dissolved to reveal a glimmering, crystal tower in the middle of the grove, surrounded by several small structures. Housings of my people, white marble, roofed over by translucent domes. Open pagodas, halls lined with archways and ivy-embraced columns. A shelter far from civilization, where a small part of our old world had risen again.

And above the open space before the Spire floated the heart of my home, the Sphere of Mythal. A great orb surging with perpetual magic, thinning the Veil to enhance all connection to the spirit world and concealing this sanctuary from sight. Two rings of metal were forever orbiting around it, their paths opposed to each other. Of course, the contraption was not truly Mythal’s, neither was the magic in it. I had just named the sphere thus to commemorate her. She would have liked to be remembered in such a magnificent way. Inside the sphere, lightning and fire and pure energy entwined to form an incandescent miniature star. The beauty of it would never cease to amaze me.

“ _Mirthadra_! Spirits, you returned!”, Linala, my sovereign advisor, ran up to me as I crossed the courtyard. Several others had noticed my return and I gladly relinquished the weight of Arlenna as they rushed to aid me.

“Put her into the eastern housing, with the gazebo. And take care to set up a strong barrier. I shall come by soon. Be mindful, and do not hurt her. She is more of an… involuntary guest than a prisoner.”, I instructed in a strained voice. The searing pain in my arm distracted me.

“You are injured.”, Linala said pointedly, frowning when I drew back as she moved to examine me. I had insisted on undertaking this task alone, against her thorough protests. Doing so minimized the collateral damage to both sides – although I was certain I had the loyalty of my people, I could not say for sure that they wouldn’t have harmed Da’Assan and her family. Despite all my caution, it had gone terribly wrong… Closing my eyes did not make the expressions on their faces vanish, did nothing to quell the guilt rooted in my bones. And I would carry it for long after their bodies had turned to ash, into eternity.

“I will see to it myself.” Linala did not look happy about my curt refusal, but I had no patience for her just now. Up in the tower room, I cleaned the wound and helped it to speed up the healing process, then tied a bandage around my arm. I could have used my own blood to completely mend the tear, but such magic dampened any ability to connect with the Fade. Only a Conduit could have done that without shedding from their spiritual link beyond the Veil.

Sighing, I stepped to the window and looked out onto the eastern housing. The barrier was already in place, translucent blue around the white stone structure. Hopefully she would like the accommodations, at least long enough so I could educate her why she needed to be here. I turned and walked across the circular study with its traditionally painted walls and piles upon piles of tomes. Reading was a favourite pastime of mine. All the world went quiet, stepped into the background when the pages of a book whispered their secrets to me. The only thing I enjoyed more than reading was dreaming. One never tired of the wonders that the Fade had to offer, the echoes of times forgotten flickering as spirits reflected wisdom believed forever lost.

The living of this age knew so little. They walk blind to the world behind the one visible to the eye, where all emotion resonates like the ring of a bell long after it had been struck. And yet unwillingly, humans and elves alike reach out to each other, to the spirits who seek entrance into reality, as though they knew that they should not have been separated. I have brought doom upon all the world. It is not right. No path remained for me but one.

_What drives you, Dread Wolf, Great Destroyer, breaker of the Vallaslin? Is it guilt for what you have done to your People? Do you think tearing down the Veil will bring you peace, will undo what you have wrought?_   Da’Assan… You may never know how your words hit me just as your arrows find their mark, on that day I came to warn you about my plans for your daughter. I might very well perish in this attempt to resurrect my people. So be it.

I decided to look in on my disinclined visitor. The barrier posed no restriction to me, and so I passed freely through it into the room chosen for Arlenna. All beds in Var’Thenerasan were traditionally elven, mattresses on raised wooden platforms. Some had branches curving upward from the corners, some were draped with gauze canopies, and others wore both adornments. Arlenna now lay on exactly one of these, the white fabric swaying ever so slightly in the wind. Dismissing the people who were hastily arranging some sparse furniture, I sat down on the bed beside her. Immersed in deep slumber still. Maybe my spell had been too forceful, but the situation had called for quick action.

I looked at her, studying the shape of her sleeping face. It was oval, almost pristinely so. Not much of the angles and the typical elven sharpness in there. The human element, I suspected. Wide doe-brown eyes, closed now, beneath the two elegant crescent moons of her brows. Which could, as I knew already, form a perfectly good scowl. Her pointed ears peeked from the halo of fox-coloured locks. How strange. As though she’d somehow inherited the exact middle-ground between her parents, a hue halfway from blonde to dark red. Full lips, the lower thicker than the upper, above a stubborn little bit of a chin. Her mouth seemed to form a slight, perpetual pout. She was beautiful, I had to admit uneasily. And she despised me.

Both of those things were troubling facts I chose not to examine closer for now. My gaze fell to the stunning necklace she wore. A fire gem, teardrop-shaped and glowing faintly in the semi-darkness. A unique possession to call your own. Arlenna shivered and her lids fluttered restlessly.

Dreaming? Are you dreaming, I-Am-Fated? Do you walk the Fade with knowledge of what you see, or does your mind merely conjure comforting thoughts after this taxing night?

Aware that I should not, I still couldn’t resist. My hand reached out, almost on its own, bare fingers brushing over her smooth forehead. Consciousness seated in the head. Instinct, impulse and emotion dwelled in the heart. The spirit linked them, made them one whole, and yet they worked ever so strongly against each other sometimes. Beneath my fingers, the planes of Arlenna’s mind stretched far and wide.

Slipping over the edges of her being was so ridiculously easy. She had no wards, no walls to shut me out. Nobody had tried to invade or attack her this way before, and I felt like a beast doing it now. Trespassing on something naïve, like dirtying a pure and innocent thing. I did not look too closely at the majority of her, at least this line would not be crossed. But I slithered into the dream she was having, loomed behind her as a shadow, witnessing.

Woke up to raised voices again. That happened often these days. She’d shown Da little flames of different colour, so proudly, and he had smiled, but his eyes had been cautious and frightful. Why? It was her birthday today. Today then, and today now, I realized. Twelves years old, in this memory that somehow had gotten lost between others, the way menial items disappeared when one displaced them.

This night felt different. Something about the anxiety in Mum’s voice frightened her, and she slid from the bed in the darkness, tip-toeing out into the hall. A streak of light led the way to their bedroom, the source of agitation. Arlenna slunk up to the door, which was open just one slim crack. I stood behind and peeked into the room with her. There was Da’Assan, in her nightgown, the ugly mess of her left hand a blatant reminder of the pain I had caused her when I’d removed the Anchor. There had been no other choice. It would have killed her. Still, the sight of the dark burn marks and the slight tremble sent pangs of regret through me.

“We have to make a decision about her future, Lira.” This from Sajnalin. He stood leaned against the fireplace mantle, his back turned to both Da’Assan and us. “Arlenna is showing more and more signs of her magical abilities. She is twelve, the age apprentices traditionally start training. She needs to join the Circle and learn to control her power.” It sounded as though they’d had this discussion many times before. There was a tired sort of anger in his deep voice as he spoke. Da’Assan shook her head in quick, violent jerks.

“The Kirkwall Circle is still too traditional! If they find out about Orianna, or even my mother – Or both! It would be horrible for her.”

Yes, those conservative ways of the humans for dealing with magic they feared… The mage Circles still thought evil ran in bloodlines, and those prejudiced, narrow-minded humans would indeed crush Arlenna’s hopes. And her talent. I had known this ever since I learned of her existence in a dream-vision, where I had also glimpsed what she could become.

“We could send her to Keeper Iraya. She could study with the clan, my father would –“ Sajnalin did not like that idea one bit. He turned to her, face taut and chiselled.

“Send her hundreds of miles away? Out of our protection? Have you forgotten who threatened to take her from us before she’d even been born?” Da’Assan paled at the edge in his tone.

“Of course not, _vhenan_. How could I forget that? But… it’s been twelve years… Maybe… Maybe he decided against it.”, she said tentatively. Walking over to the plush armchair in front of the fire, she sank into it, shoulders drooping.

“Have you ever known him to make idle threats? To do things halfway? To not see his plans through, ruthlessly?”, her husband demanded with a fierce gesture. Then, he seemed to see something on her face, I knew not what – they had their own ways of communicating without words sometimes. “You still have hope.”, my old friend stated in disbelief.

“You still believe he will change. We swore on our lives that we won’t let him use our daughter for his own selfish means. Let it go, Lira! He is not Wolf Brother anymore. He never was!” That seemed to hit her like sharp blades. She flinched and went still, ghostly pallid even by the golden light of the fire. I was quite sure that my Las’amelin had not been spoken under this roof for years. Sajnalin instantly regretted his harsh words. He let out a sigh and stepped beside her, dropping to his knees.

“Forgive me. That was… I’m a blundering idiot sometimes.”, he said quietly, taking her marred hand without qualms about the unpleasant scars. He pressed it against his cheek. “Forgive me.” Da’Assan’s features softened, instantaneously. I felt intrusive watching such an intimate, heartfelt moment between them. But then again, wasn’t I the one who had intruded on Arlenna’s dream in such a careless fashion?

“Do not apologize, _vhenan_. You… You didn’t say anything that is not true. I hope… It’s futile, I know.” She paused, unable to say more on the issue. “The Circle, then.” They kissed, and I turned away.

It would have been an even greater breach on their privacy to watch further. I had seen enough, and so had Arlenna. She did not understand most of what had been discussed, but knew that she’d been the reason for her parents’ arguing. Now that they’d made peace, she scampered back to her room solemnly. Her unease hung in the air palpably, though. Mum and Da fought, over her. That was bad and terrible.

And now… now her abduction would destroy them. I sensed her take up awareness in the dream, sensed her consciousness grip control. The young Arlenna turned all of a sudden and looked right at me. I did not know what she saw. But she screamed, a ringing, high-pitched cry, and the dream shattered as she ripped herself from its depths.

In the real world, I received a slap to the face. Not a gentle, rebuking little pat. A full-force slap, with all the strength of an affronted, fuming young woman. The sound resonated in the empty space around us, the crack of a whip clap-clap-clapping on while my face burned as though set aflame. Involuntarily, I let out a hiss of pain.

“You pushy, cocky bastard!”, Arlenna spat at me. While I rubbed distractedly over the place her hand had struck me, she scrambled away, fleeing. But there was nowhere to go.

“Arlenna, don’t –“ My warning came too late. She flung herself through one of the archways at the far end of the room, and hit the barrier. It threw her back again fiercely and she landed on her knees. The realization that she was trapped must have sunk in then, for she simply curled up on the cold floor, leaned against a marble column. Hugging her knees, folding in on herself. Her narrow shoulders trembled. I walked over, but she shrunk even closer to the comforting, hard stone as she sensed my approach. I halted.

“Leave me alone! Is it not enough that you have kidnapped me? Must you trespass on my dreams, my privacy?” The words were laced with insult, but I heard something else in them too. Fear, desperation. And contempt. “You are exactly what they say you are. A traitorous egomaniac, a thief! Every word out of you is poison! You might wear that face and fool all the world, but you don’t fool me. You’re hideous inside, a monster.”

Her eyes pierced me with a ruthless glare. I tried not to let it show how much those slurs stung. What had she seen when she’d looked upon me in her dream? I did not wish for Arlenna to hate me. Without the power she could unlock for me, I had little hope of undoing the damage caused by the Veil. Conduits only came by once in a generation, and my people were getting restless. They clamoured for change. The murmurs that I had waited for too long had been the reason that finally drove me to go through with my plan to abduct her. But that is not the only reason, some small voice whispered.

“My ways may seem monstrous to you, but they serve a much higher purpose. You know nothing of my goals, yet you judge me a monster. Does this look like the home of a monster to you?” I made a gesture towards the courtyard, and she followed it, but only for one, sweeping gaze. Before she fixated on me again, unimpressed.

“Oh, now you want me to praise you for this elfy-elf grove? I couldn’t care less if you’d brought me to the King of Orleis’ grand ballroom and draped me with the crown jewels! Let me out!”, she hissed. I felt tired all of a sudden. Spirits, this woman was insufferable. She sapped the space around her of energy and patience. Impulsive, thoughtless, ready blurt out the first thing that came into her mind. A twirl of fire with a sharp blade of a tongue. And still, or perhaps because of it, she stirred something in me. Amusement? I had forgotten… So long since I experienced anything but grave twilight. Some dormant part of me wanted to rise to the challenge, to cross swords with her and see what would happen once the duel was won.

“Why the hell are you smiling?” Arlenna forgot to be scathing momentarily, it seemed. An expression of surprise and something less easily definable crossed her features. Then a dark, conspiring look replaced it. “Oh. Is all of this perhaps a sick sort of revenge plan? You were part of my mother’s inner circle in the Inquisition. Whispers say you’ve been closer to her than most. Is that what this is about? You couldn’t have her, and now you want to take it out on her daughter?”

Those words made the smile die on my lips. How dare she say such a thing? It angered me more than most insults I had received over the years, and those were numerous.  In cold fury, I stalked her. A predator stalking his prey. She came to her feet in alarm, but where could she hope bolting to? I grabbed her by the shoulders, strongly enough so she would not escape, yet not so tightly that it hurt. A yelp of panic came from her throat and she went utterly still. Except for the trembling.

“A more juvenile nonsense I have rarely heard.”, I said, dangerously low, in a mere whisper. “Listen well, silly girl. Your mother was one of the truest friends I had in this wretched world. Your parents were destined for each other. Forged in fire and nightmare. You speak insolently of things you have no inkling about. I advise you never to utter such a filthy slander to me, ever again.” I stared her down, pushing the knowledge of the fright in her wide eyes from my conscience. She tried to summon magic to defend herself, but I quelled it and shook her, just once, as a warning.

“Why are you doing this?” Broken. On the verge of tears, voice quivering. Spirits, no… Don’t cry, I-Am-Fated. I prefer your rage a thousand times over tears. If you cry, you make the horrible thing I have done to you and yours a reality I cannot avert my eyes from. My hands loosened their hold, automatically. I turned away from that beautiful face just as the first drop meandered down her cheek. With my back to her, I let out a sigh that could not be subdued.

“You should rest. Your mind is too frayed and exhausted for explanations right now. I shall visit you in the morning.” Just before passing through the barrier, I stopped and glanced back. Arlenna stood in the moonlight, hands clasped, whiter than the purest snow. A strange, constricting sensation squeezed my chest, and my heart… moved.  Sideways, or downward… I couldn’t say. But suddenly there was a heaviness in each measured thud, and without thinking, I spoke again –

“No one here will harm you, Arlenna. Not even the Dread Wolf. _Melava somniar_.”

That night, I dreamed as mortals do. Horrible, blurry, disconnected images. Nightmares that held me to account for all the wrongdoings I had committed. Until the guilt became unbearable and I wanted nothing more than to break out of my own skin. Be someone else. _You are a monster._ And as I looked into the mirror of my dreams, I saw a black beast of fur and claw, its three pairs of eyes red as blood. Caught between my teeth, a white fox dangled, lifeless. The sky darkened from the hailstorm of arrows raining down, and flames rose to devour the world.


	4. IV. Bargaining

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the pause between updates, I had a busy week. But here's the first "real" conversation between these two. It's a bit of a bridging chapter to lead up to the things that will come soon, but I still like it. I just love how Arlenna battles with herself to hate him, or at least distrust him.

### IV. Bargaining

_The first rule of bribing a reluctant business partner is knowing what they want. Everybody wants something. That assumption ranks in the lines of “Fereldens make revolting brandy.”, or “Kirkwall has terrible weather.”. It’s just a fact. Having a bargaining chip in a hopeless negotiation can save your ass, a hundred times better than gold ever could.  
Varric_

* * *

 

 

The relentless brightness of a rising sun meddling its way through every ridiculously open space of my ‘quarters’ woke me in the morning. Wherever I had ended up through my kidnapper’s machinations, the people here seemed to love themselves some light at the expense of privacy. Only one corner of my room was walled, the other two sides were completely see-through archways, looking out either into the courtyard or towards a docile little gazebo. And the ceiling… I mean seriously, glass domes? Anyone peeking down from the imposing crystal tower could spy on the residents. Disconcerting. At home, I’d had my own, spacious rooms with proper doors and curtains that could be closed or drawn.

But this… Everything was open, airy, light. It had a certain elegance, in an unfamiliar, odd way. Nothing like what I remembered from my visits to my mother’s clan, the Dalish. These elves seemed more sophisticated and very casual about using magic in their housings. The very air tingled with it, as though energy had been woven into each marble column, each piece of long-limbed, curving furniture. I sighed, reliving the events of the night and pondering my immediate situation. The barrier that had thwarted any escape once already glowed faintly, a mere foot behind the white columns. Doubtful that I could break it by any means known to me. The magic emanating from it felt solid and well-maintained, while my powers… Subdued, not completely, but weak nevertheless. I had exhausted myself yesterday, and even the night had brought no true rest or recuperation. I still seethed with anger about the abduction, but that too somehow had burned down to simmering coals inside me. The outlook on escaping was bleak, and it weighed my spirits quite effectively.

At least my captors had arranged a folding screen in the protected corner of the room, behind which a small washing basin and an ivory comb allowed me to salvage the mess of my appearance a little. When I stepped forth from behind it after grooming, I startled.

A woman stood in the archway, framed by the ever-glowing light from the magical sphere that floated above this odd place. I’d noticed it before. The thing made all my mage senses prickle. Some incredibly strong spell dwelled inside, radiating continuous energy like a miniature sun. I’d never seen anything like it, nor heard or read about such magic during my studies with the Circle. The elf who had invaded my prison diverted my attention to her by placing a tray of food and a bundle of clothes on a small table. She was tall and lean, with angular features. Very elf-like. She did not bear Vallaslin. But almost hidden beneath the raven-black hair that framed her face, I could see faint markings along her temples. Ice-blue eyes surveyed me with thinly veiled contempt.

“I was told to bring you fresh clothes and something to eat.” A heavy accent, with drawn-out syllables. My mind filed through the many lessons on Dalish culture I’d attended to at my mother’s behest. This woman had belonged to a western clan. Meres, or Elethin…

“Do not delude yourself into thinking you are welcome here.”, she suddenly interrupted my thoughts. Not even bothering to keep her voice polite.

“ _Mirthadra_ might think you should be treated as a guest, but you are nothing more than a tool to be used in our plans. It is despicable that an _alshera_ should come from the heritage of a _harellan_.” Her piercing gaze taxed me, yet I held it with just the same venom.

“I suppose I should be insulted, if I knew what any of those words meant.”, I retorted coldly. “Has it escaped your notice that I don’t want to be here? Let me free, and I will be gone from here before you can blink.” She gave a mirthless smirk.

“Insolent chit. I will do no such thing. As much as I despise the very thing you represent, I won’t go against _mirthadra_ ’s wishes. But I have my eyes on you, make no mistake.” Giving me one last, baleful look, the woman turned her back and walked away through the barrier. I couldn’t suppress a low hiss. How dare she offend me like that?! I was the victim here, for Maker’s sake!

Still, I wondered about her words… _Alshera_ , what did that mean? Heritage of a _harellan_ … That had to refer to my parents, in some way. Surveying the ruined state of my dress, it seemed practical to use the spare clothes, although I begrudged taking any helpful thing from these people. But maybe this wasn’t the right time to be petty…

As I changed behind the folding screen, it dawned on me that I fit even less into this world of elves than I fit into the world of humans at home. The tunic and breeches were too tight and just a bit short. Not tailored to my height and figure. Taking after my father, I was taller than most female elves I’d ever met, and I’d never been as willowy as them. Slender, yes, but with… more, in certain places. The human part, I reckoned. Readjusting the fabric several times still did not help the pinching sensation around my waist and chest. I still fidgeted around as I emerged from the sheltered corner, not noticing at first that someone had entered.

“Darn these flat-chested elves…” My cursing was answered by a slight cough. I looked up to find Solas standing there in the archway. He held an assortment of books in one hand and regarded me with a neutral sort of interest. No armour or fur hood today. Instead, he donned a closely fitted linen shift that bore next to no adornment. The only thing that stuck out was the blackened bone he wore around his neck, resting against his chest. It looked like the jawbone of some animal. A charm, maybe? Talisman? But other than that, nothing there to distract from his face.

Oddly, the stark simplicity brought out the acuity in his aquiline features. It gave his whole appearance a striking sharpness. Or maybe it just struck me because all I had seen of him yesterday had been shrouded by dimness. In the daylight, he was… arresting. I had no better word to describe him. I remembered our intense… encounter from last night and could not quite sort out my sentiments about it. There just too many, tangled up like pieces of string.  

“Good morning, Arlenna.”, my captor greeted me politely. As he stepped into the room, I noticed an effortless, feline grace to his movements that both unsettled and intrigued me. Once again, I had the feeling that I faced a man equally intelligent and dangerous, driven by a purpose too convoluted for me to understand. I watched him warily. “The clothes I asked to be provided do not suit your needs?” Solas settled the books beside the food tray and looked me over. A muscle in his cheek twitched.

“They are too snug… Made for someone with less…”, I trailed away. “I must look ridiculous.” He inclined his head slightly, betraying nothing of his true thoughts. This man could likely spin the most fantastic lies without batting an eyelid. I ought to be careful.

“Not ridiculous.”, he said in a measured tone. Always so calm and tempered. Something very close to amusement flickered in his gaze, although it fled ever so quickly. “I hope you found a little rest last night, however brief it was.” I noticed that he kept a careful distance to me at the far side of the room, his stance deliberately relaxed. Did he take care not to startle or crowd me? After the ups-and-downs of emotion last night, it may just have been a wise choice. He’d promised that nobody would harm me, but of course I didn’t trust that promise farther than a one-legged man’s jump.

“As much as possible after one has been kidnapped and imprisoned against their will.” _Control your sharp tongue, Arlenna_., a voice that sounded suspiciously like my mother’s whispered. Maybe I should not antagonize the person who holds the reins to my fate right now. Yet for some reason, the corner of Solas’ mouth quirked. Just a little.

“Still prickly, I see. I suppose that’s understandable, after what happened to you.” With that same maddening calmness as yesterday, he sat down on an elaborate chair. Did anything ever throw this man off balance? For that youthful appearance, he seemed to possess an abundance of self-control that defied to be rattled. Although, when I had spoken so recklessly about my mother the day before, I’d seen what he was capable of when that façade slipped…

“You are not quite what I expected. Then again… What could have been expected of you?”, he pondered, more as though talking to himself. “You might not realize how… peculiar your existence is.” I wondered if he made a habit of phrasing things in a deliberately condescending way. It stung, and I knew exactly what he was referring to.

“You can state it bluntly. I’m an oddity. Is this where you reveal to me that I couldn’t possibly be my parents’ daughter? Because I was born an elf? Save it. I have heard every conceivable wild tale.” My remark had been meant to put him in his place, yet Solas just looked at me. Those unfathomable eyes… I felt transparent to them, a piece of see-through glass. I shuddered.

“I believe you have. You are your parents’ daughter, for sure. There is much of both of them in you. Never doubt it.” That stopped me short. I had no immediate riposte, and so he went on. “There have been others like you, a long time ago. In an age where our people’s bloodlines were not yet weakened. Human memory is poor, and short. The Dalish, on the other hand, have exiled the tales of such children from their lore. They frown on all unisons that might thin elven blood. Nobody remembers the elvhenborn anymore. Or rather… Almost nobody. I do remember.” Subconsciously, I stepped a little closer. What he said stirred a strange longing in me, a wish to learn more about where I had come from, and why. For most of my life, the strange circumstances of my birth had denied me to feel a sense of belonging. Outside of my family – to whom it made no difference if I was elf or human – I’d lived as an outsider. Neither this nor that. Neither human nor elf. Not fully excluded, but not earnestly welcomed either.   

“There have been others like me? Are there now?”, I asked, forgetting even to be petulant for once. I’d surprised him. His face lost some of its etched lines. Softened. He looked almost amiable now.

“There have, I-Am-Fated. But… I’m sorry, as of right now, you are the only one I know of. The first of your kind since… a thousand years, I suspect.” Disappointment must have somehow shown on my face, for Solas made a little movement with one hand, as though reaching for me, but stopped himself. I averted my gaze into the distance.

“So… is that what your edgy-woman meant with that word? I am… an _alshera_ , from the heritage of a _harellan_?” He looked suddenly taken aback, frowning.

“Edgy? You mean Linala? She is not my… In any case, she is my sovereign advisor. Did she say that to you?” It sounded as though he did not agree with whatever Linala had said. His expression turned forbidding, even some mild form of angry for a short moment. Before he composed himself again.

“I must apologize on her behalf. Linala has some… radical beliefs, as do a few of my most devoted followers. _Harellan_ …. It means ‘traitor to one’s kin’. She was referring to your mother, who refused to join my cause and is therefore viewed as a traitor to this… elven society here.” I glowered at him.

“That’s funny, because my kin would say exactly the same of you, _Dread Wolf_.” Solas sighed and nodded heavily.

“I know. Do not be too quick to judge. There is a lot that you have yet to understand.” There he went again, treating me like a child. It irritated me to no end. I’ve had enough of his attitude.

“I understand that you abducted me, probably giving my parents a heart-attack, put me here, and let your followers insult me on top of that. How, pray tell, am I not supposed to judge?!”, I snarled. Solas lifted one hand to rub over his forehead as though dispersing a rising headache. Even through my frayed patience, I noticed the agile motion of his wrist, the nimble elegance of those long fingers.

“Sit.”, he said. Then, more softly he added. “Please.” In a streak of resignation, I slumped down into the second chair on the other side of the small table and picked up a piece of white bread from the food tray. Chewing it with a grudge, I avoided Dread Wolf’s gaze. I had better remember that name, since his appearance betrayed nothing of the cunning predator he hid inside. I’d seen it in the dream he’d so ignorantly invaded. A beast… Black fur and claw. Six eyes, piercing, filled with ancient guile. A wolf. A man. Both, somehow.

“You did not ask me about the other word. _Alshera_.”, I head him say. I could feel his gaze on me, yet I pretended great interest in the details of an ivy vine around a column.

“What does it matter? Will it help me get home?” That question came out without a real hope for a straight answer.

“No. But it might help you understand why you are not home.” I ventured a glance and caught… genuine sympathy in his eyes. Against my better judgement, I turned to him. “The closest translation of _alshera_ would be… Conduit. A very old, elven name for a mage with… specific skills. They are rare. Only one in every generation.”

“What skills?” Solas seemed to ponder his answer for the longest time yet, as if he wanted to weigh his words very carefully.

“With proper training, Conduits can siphon great amounts of energy directly from the Fade, in ways other mages could only accomplish through abusing lyrium. It is a very powerful and very dangerous ability. Yesterday, when your anger overwhelmed you, you used this ability unconsciously, but you were unprotected. If I hadn’t stopped you, you could have lost yourself. That cannot happen again. You have to learn how to control your ability, and no Circle mage or keeper will be able to teach you. But I can.”

I thought about the fire that had surfaced from me and how it had burned out of control, almost consuming my very essence. He was right. I had gotten lost in the surging tides of fury, the inferno conjured from the depths of my being. Solas had been the cause of that storm, yet he’d also… put me right again. Kept me from unravelling. Still…

“I don’t quite believe that you are offering me this out of the goodness of your heart. And besides… Are you not some sort of expert on the Fade? Why would you even need a… Conduit?” His expression grew shuttered just a bit too swiftly.

“So you do know something about me. What have your parents told you?” It didn’t escape me that he avoided answering my question. I narrowed my eyes suspiciously.

“They told me nothing. They do not speak of you, ever. But correspondences aren’t hidden away in our household. I gathered a few things from reading letters here and there. You are a mage with no equal, or so they say. Why do you need the abilities of someone who hasn’t even passed their Harrowing yet?” My words seemed to have hit some weak point. Solas looked… hurt, briefly. He examined the rune-covered spine of a book much more intensely than it merited.

“I see. I am an expert on the Fade, and I connect to it more easily than any living being of this age. But that has a simple reason. I have walked a world in which the Veil had not yet existed. A whole, undivided world. And although I know more about the Fade than you can imagine, I am still restricted by its rules, its gateways. The Veil. You, on the other hand, were born with one tiny difference between you and other mages. Tiny, and yet so vast at the same time. For you, the Veil does not exist.” He suddenly stood and began pacing the room, the look on his face completely taken up by concentration. Like a scholar trying to figure out an unsolvable equation.

“No, no. That is not right. It exists, but you… Ignore it. Your connection to the Fade is… stronger than the Veil. No, I am phrasing it wrong. It’s… above the Veil. On a higher level. The way instinct is above any conscious thought.” His line of reasoning was beyond me. I felt confused and a little frightened. If I really had such a unique ability, I would have been aware of it, wouldn’t I? Or at least my parents, or the Circle would have known…

“Am I supposed to understand any of this?” My voice must have been feeble. He sought my eyes with his. Their strange, undefinable colour seemed to root me to the place. Sleet grey today. The colour of snow-rain on a winter morning. I saw fierce purpose there, of such magnitude that nothing could ever turn him from the path he’d chosen. I knew not where that path led, but behind that inscrutable gaze I sensed him dwelling inside a prison of his own making. I realized with alarm that he was standing much too close, body angled toward me. Yet I could not move. Frozen, not by magic. But by the intense regard of a being whose complexity felt nearly overwhelming. Fingers brushed my arm. Gently. Almost too light to be called a touch at all.

“Let me teach you, and I give you my word that I shall only ask you one favour. One thing I cannot do, but you can. Let me show you how you can control and even harness your power, how to use your true potential. And when what I need you to do is done, I will let you go home.” Such honesty in those words, in the depth of his eyes… _Be careful_ , reason warned me. _Do not easily believe anything he says._ The bargain Solas offered did not sound so terribly bad. Yet it had this one giant, blatant catch that could not be ignored.

“What favour?”, I asked. Why did I sound breathless? He sobered instantaneously at my question, straightening. It broke the disturbing magic of his thorough gaze, releasing me from its spell.

“I… I cannot tell you, yet. But I will explain, in due time.” I shook my head, irritated.

“Has anyone ever told you that keeping secrets is not the best way to win someone’s trust? Especially when you made such a sorry mess of it to begin with?” To my utter astonishment, he… smiled. Damnation.

It was like watching the sun flood a shadowed valley, taking all severity away from his face and leaving behind… an actual person. Before, everything about him had issued distance, cool single-mindedness, as those haughty statues that flanked Hightown Square and looked down on pesky mortals from their pedestals. His thoughts and matters were likely long-winded mazes to simple beings. I could neither understand nor read him, for sure. But his smile… Made him more tangible, less… unknowable, elusive. For the first time, I felt as though I spoke to a real man.

“I do not expect you to trust me in the matter of a day. But… at least you did not try to attack me.”, Solas interrupted my disturbing ruminations. “Please think about what I said. I brought you some books on the Fade and exercises for dream awareness. Reading them is a good start for your studies.” He surveyed me for a long moment, deliberating. “Did you have a favourite pastime at home?” The question caught me completely off guard. I looked at him blankly, bamboozled. He cleared his throat.

“As a gesture of goodwill… I would like to make your stay here comfortable. Var’Thenerasan might seem far from all civilization, but I am sure I can provide you with some entertainment in your free time. What do you enjoy doing?” I wondered if me not attacking him had miraculously changed his mood from solemn to… well, whatever this was. Cheerful? No, that word didn’t suit him at all. Enthusiastic? Yes, that. When I still did not answer, Solas lifted a hand to his chin, as if puzzling over some great mystery.

“Something musical, likely. Singing? The lute?”, he mused. He’d known my mother well, after all. Singing and playing the lute were safe assumptions.

“I’m sad to say that I can’t carry a tune to save my life, and I never much cared for the lute.”, I murmured a bit meekly. “I doubt you can provide my favourite pastime – besides reading – here. At home… I play the pianoforte. It’s been all the rage among society for a decade now. You probably don’t know it – it’s an instrument from Orleis-“ He gifted me with a mock frown. I fell silent.

“I know the pianoforte. I shall see what I can do.”, he nodded to himself, leaving me baffled. Where the hell would he even get a pianoforte, out in the woods? Impossible. Yet Solas didn’t look like someone worried about a promise they wouldn’t be able to keep. Instead, he threw me an imploring look.

“Do not forget to read these.” Then he tapped the books he’d brought with two long fingers and bowed. I stared after him as the entirety of our conversation flashed through my mind in mere seconds. And I couldn’t refrain from asking myself… What on earth had just happened?


	5. V. An Uncommon Teacher

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeeees, I'm getting there... :> The next chapter after this one will have some very interesting stuff I look forward to posting.  
> Have fun!

 

###  **V. An Uncommon Teacher**

_We know little about the ancient elves, although in recent years Inquisitor Lavellan cleared up some major misunderstandings about them. We had always imagined Elvhenan as a civilization closely tied to nature. Elves living in giant trees, with housings of lovingly carved wood, harmonizing with the deep forests of the world. But it seems that assumption was wrong. The closest tie of the old elves had been their tie to magic – every part of their long lifespans was permeated by a deep, intrinsic connection to it. Instead of tree-dwellings, they had cities of eternal beauty, crystalline and brimming with the arcane power that came so easily to them._  
_Even the rituals of declaring a meaningful life-bond were comparable to a spell which carried a tiny representation of one’s sentiments towards the person it concerned. Las’amelin, ‘To Grant A Name’ being the closest translation, is one of the few customs of Elvhenan that survived into the present day. It refers to the act of naming one’s most intimate, closest relationships in a very personal way, in order to emphasize their unique importance. The elves believe that there is great power in a name, and that still some small shred of magic remained in the use of that ritual, speaking of a spiritual connection that even time and great change have not managed to tear apart._  
_Page from ‘What Remains of Elvhenan” by Meron Arenhoff_

* * *

 

 

The rest of the day went by with me puzzling over the impossible predicament I had gotten into. How is it that I get kidnapped by someone the whole world paints as a madman, just for him to turn out to be far from mad? I was quite sure by now that Solas did not intend to do me immediate harm and that I might have to rethink some of the things I had read about him in my parents’ letters. Oh, I did not doubt that he was dangerous, in many ways. But violent? Not likely. He’d been nothing if not civil with me, except during the abduction, and well… he’d had to make a quick getaway there.

So many things that I didn’t understand about this whole mess. For example, what had happened between Solas and my parents to spawn such animosity from their side? And each time I brought them up, he had looked… vulnerable. He seemed like a man with nary a chink in his armour, but when it came to my parents… As far as I knew, he had been the one who had left to follow his own path, although I still had no idea what that path was. The vague references of a ‘mad ambition’, a quest of self-justice or similar things that I had read about told me nothing.

What I did know is that Solas had kept his true identity a secret from the Inquisition and in the end revealed to my mother that the elven gods were nothing more than a lie. Like him, they had not been gods at all but incredibly skilled elven mages with near eternal lifespans. And among them, Solas had been Fen’Harel, the one who opposed the others’ cruelty. How old was he, exactly?, I wondered with some uneasiness. I couldn’t hope to understand the mind of a man who’d lived more lifetimes than I could count. Stories usually described him as cunning, ruthless and deceptive. I was inclined to believe them. Yet… There seemed to be more. More questions, more facets, more parts of the whole riddle… and they piled up the more I thought about my strange conversations with him. Hard to admit to myself, but… I was curious about him. What substance made a man of his calibre? What drove him? An inner demon that allowed no divergence from the course he’d set? I remembered the overwhelming guilt that had touched me when we passed through the Eluvian. I could almost taste it at the back of my throat. Bitter, like a tonic of rue. Guilt… about what?  

When my mind became too crowded with questions that seemed to have no immediate answers, I amused myself by looking out into the courtyard. Elves in elegant robes came and went constantly, going about their business in this strange place. Some were warriors or archers, judging by the weapons they carried. Others carried books, herbs and other supplies. Scribes, alchemists, mages. A great variety of people, I noted. Many stopped some distance from my quarters to cast me looks that ranged from interested to disdainful. They often whispered to each other, even had the nerve to point fingers at me, as if I was some attraction at a county fair. I tired quickly of glowering at them. Homesickness lapped up in me and peaked with a strength that was painful. Mum and Da… they must be worried sick. I longed to be home with them, even though they’d never told me about the Dread Wolf’s plans. Home, where I had been cherished and welcomed in the warm circle of a loving family. Nobody wanted me here. I sensed their scorn like needles on my skin.

As evening came and darkness fell, my quarters were illuminated by several milky white orbs I hadn’t noticed before. They hung close to the ceiling and came to life as soon as the gloom became a hindrance to my sight. To distract myself, I spent some time examining the peculiar magical contraptions, trying to discern how the spell that made them light up worked. I soon gave up on it and took a seat at the table.

Reluctantly, I picked up one of the books Solas had brought and began reading. It was a theoretical explanation on the Fade and how mages could strengthen their connection to it. There were charts about the nature of energy currents, which determined the element of magic when preparing a spell. Complicated exercises that focused not on specific elements like fire or lightning, but rather on how to keep the flow of magic intact without casting.

Although I had studied much of the theory during my apprenticeship at the Circle, the book explored things from a different angle. I quickly lost track of time as I filed through the pages. The milky orbs never dimmed to signal that night deepened, and I reckoned it must have been well past midnight when I fell into the gauze-curtained bed, the book still open in my hand.

Naturally, a dream came. Rare were the occasions when I did not dream, but tonight something felt different. The images were sharp, and yet somehow… foreign, as though watching another person taking up the reins to your own life. I walked the halls of Vigil’s End. My home, and yet not my home. Everything looked just slightly different than I remembered, tiny details that only a lifelong resident would notice.

I searched for my family, but the halls and corridors were empty, abandoned. And I, a mere ghost in a haunted place. Odd, how the soft daylight filtering through the windows held no true warmth for me. I was alone, something that I once had longed for so badly. Experiencing what that truly meant, though… How forlorn it felt… I wondered why I’d ever wished for such a thing.

Guided by an unconscious yearning, my steps took me to the music room. Maybe because I’d spoken to Solas about it today, or maybe I just wanted to soothe my mind with a familiar task. My heart lifted as soon as I saw the pianoforte in the centre of the room. Light bounced from the polished black surface, not one speck of dust tarnishing its beauty. This model was only five years old. My first one stood against the far wall, a much smaller model, specifically made for children. Uncle Varric had gifted it to me on my tenth birthday.

I smiled, lowering onto the wide stool and lifting the lid. The cool, gleaming keys beneath my fingers. The subtle resonance of each struck note through the vibrating strings. Such intricate design went into every single instrument, enabling us to create the fleeting magic of music. Complex melodies that I enjoyed so much mastering, I forgot all the world around. I began playing one of the pieces I knew by heart, for there were no sheets in the holder.

My hands moved almost on their own, the sonata unfolding fluidly. It rose and fell, like a lively little stream bubbling its way into a tranquil lake. Together with the music, a part of the heaviness in my heart poured out of me and trickled away. I felt lighter, not so burdened anymore. Another song, and then another. Almost I forgot about the dream, that this was not real, lost in sound and verve. Any second now, my mother might appear and call me to afternoon snacks. Any second… But it wasn’t my mother whose voice brought me out of my revelry.

“You have a gift.” The minuet I was playing came to an abrupt halt, with an endnote of utter discord as my fingers slipped. Solas. He stood leaned against the doorway, bathed in golden light by the afternoon sun. I was momentarily dumbstruck. Unable even to utter some scathing comment on the fact that again, he encroached on my dream.

“I’m… I apologize. I know, this is your dream.” He held up a hand and stepped into the room, then stopped as though unsure. Was he… ashamed? “I sensed you dreaming. And the aura of it seemed…” Seemed what? Strange, to see him fumbling like that. Nearly amusing. “I have no honest excuse to give except the one of curiosity.” Shoulders slumped, I sighed.

“You sensed me dreaming?” The piano had dampened my temper quite successfully. I was too tired to rebuke him just now.

“Yes. The signature of your presence in the Fade is… special. When I walk the Fade, it is like looking at a night sky with countless stars, each of them a spirit, a dreamer, a shred of wisdom waiting to be discovered. Your star… has an unusual shine.” He strode towards me with light steps.

“No, I meant… How do you just… come in? You walk the Fade, into other’s dreams, just like that? No one ever taught us such a thing at the Circle.”

“I dreamed for a thousand years. That is enough time to learn a thing to the point that it becomes instinct. Routine. But you walk the Fade too, Arlenna, more deeply than anyone you have ever met. Except for me. You have walked it even before you were born. And because you are an alshera, you have never truly noticed what you do.” I shook my head at him, frustrated.

“Most of what you say just goes over my head. You’re like the Riddler.” At his blank expression, I explained, “The man from the fable. He only speaks in riddles, so nobody can understand him.”

“I suppose it would seem like that to you.”, he conceded neutrally. Then, indicating that he’d like to sit beside me, “May I?” Hesitating for a heartbeat, I slid a little farther down the stool and he settled on it to my right. I felt inexplicably edgy with him so close, yet found no fear inside that uneasiness. It came from another source that I chose not to examine. But this wasn’t even real, right? Only a dream. Solas was not physically here. The realization relaxed me, a bit.

“Play something. The first thing that comes to your mind.” Baffled by the softness in his voice, I studied the keys thoroughly. Then I chose a short, merry little piece, one of the first I’d learned when I had started out.

“You practiced for many hours, repeating the songs until they tumble from your fingers without effort. I did the same thing while dreaming, practicing the limits of what I could do, learning with each attempt. An alshera… Is like a musician whose hands know the song, but whose mind cannot remember it. The ability, the talent is there in your fingers, and you use it without noticing. You sleepwalk in the Fade.”

I glanced at him, surprised about the effort he put into explaining this to me. He gazed down at me pensively, the color of his eyes almost sandy in this kind of light, like root wood. His defining features looked much less angular now. I wondered if the effect came from the sun or if he just felt more at ease in dreams than in the waking world. This way, he was… handsome. Still very elfy, but that just heightened the mysterious – and troubling – air around him. The thought intruded without asking for permission, and I jerked my head in an attempt to chase it off.

“Would you play another one?”, Solas asked quietly and I was glad for the distraction. This time, I chose one of my mother’s favourites, a catchy, rhythmic melody called _Waking Forest_. As my hands drifted across the keys, Solas lifted one of his own.

Magic seeped forth, the same intricate, unfamiliar kind that I had sensed him do before. He did not bend or force it to his will. He didn’t need to. It flocked to him willingly, like a trusting child. The surroundings suddenly changed, the bright music room fading away to make place for a tiny meadow encircled by young trees. A dozen small wisps danced in the golden beams that filtered through the crowns. Birds chirped. Wind snickered between the leaves. I froze mid-play.

“I… That was you. Did you just…” A pianoforte in the middle of an enchanted forest. Unbelievable. Then I remembered something else… “Did you influence my dream before? It had felt… a little different.” Solas’ face turned apprehensive for an instant, in the way it did when people expected a scolding.

“You ghosted through the halls of your home alone, feeling homesick and… lost. It could have gone awry because of those emotions, morphing into a nightmare. I wished to lead it into a more… pleasant direction.” A treacherous warmth rushed to my cheeks and I quickly turned away to hide the damn blush. Despite the casual ignorance for private boundaries, he had done something nice. And that made everything worse.

Much easier to define a villain as a villain when he acted like one. _Of course, he could simply act nice to win your trust_ , a shrewd voice warned. Why couldn’t he just continue with the high-handed cockiness he displayed the majority of the time? Giving me a glimpse of a decent, considerate person… I struggled to despise him already. Did he have to make it even harder?

But I was not quite ready to speak words of gratitude. Neither to apologize for my irascible behaviour.

“I suppose that’s… tolerable.”, was what I managed to say.

My grumbling was cut short when I felt the faintest brush kiss my hair. Fleeting, not more than the softest whisper of a touch. I may well have imagined it. The wayward muscle in my chest leapt into frantic motion, yet I did not dare to move for endless seconds. When I finally turned to face Solas, he had already risen from his spot, striding around the piano. His expression was unreadable once more. A quiet pond.

“Consider this your first lesson. The next time you dream, remember the forgetful musician. Do not let your emotions saturate the shape of your dream, but step back from them instead. Make it known to your mind that you are in the Fade. The fingers know the song, and therefore the mind must know it too. It is in there, only forgotten. Consciously try to change one thing inside your dream. Nothing big. A small detail, to start with. If you succeed in that, you take the first step of becoming a true mage, an alshera. Rest well, I-Am-Fated.” As he moved to leave, I somehow found my voice again.

“Why do you keep calling me that sometimes? It sounds odd.” The corners of his eyes crinkled.

“It is your name, is it not? Your name in common, your name in elven. They are the same. The only distinction is by language, not by meaning. People enjoy putting up barriers through speech. As if the world needed more of those. As long as the meaning stays, does the name really matter?” I had no coherent reply to that, and before he turned his back, I saw another smile play around his lips. It almost looked mischievous. The vexing riddles again, and he had the nerve to enjoy weaving knots into my brain! I raked a hand through my hair, surprised when my fingers caught something silky. What…? A flower, I realized, pulling it from the tangled strands. It rested on my palm, a blossom unlike any other I had seen before. At the centre, its little heart was a rich ginger, the same color as my hair. But the tips of the delicate petals shone pure white, like six puckish fox tails arranged in a perfect circle. I stared at it, speechless. When I lifted my head at last, Solas was gone.

* * *

 

The morning dawned misty grey. Despite the warmth of late Justinian, I shivered in my bed at the damp chill. These open lodgings must get really impractical during the winter. But the curious white orbs served another purpose than to shed light in the night, I soon learned. They radiated heat, too. By the time I’d washed and dressed, they had spread a cosy warmth around the room. Ah, so that was how the elves did not freeze their butts off in the cold season.

How all of this worked would likely stay an enigma to me forever. I did not intend to stay, after all. Not even after the unsettling encounter with Solas in my dream last night. But I had resolved to take his offer for the time being. It might provide me with some genuine knowledge – and furthermore, persuading him that I could be cooperative raised my chances of escaping. Nobody can be ever-vigilant, and safety tended to make people less cautious. It just had to.

I sat at the small table, listening to the grumbling noises from my stomach, when I caught a movement in the periphery of my vision. A shock of ashen hair, slinking behind a column. A glint of green. Not quick enough, imp.

“I saw you. It’s rude to spy on people, especially unwilling guests.”, I threw at the stranger. “You can come out now. No one else bothers to hide from me.” The little spy stepped shyly out of cover. As everyone around here, he was an elf. But so young. Not more than fourteen, although it was hard to say. Skinny as a rake, with a fluff of pale hair floating around his thin face like dandelion fuzz. He had bright green eyes the color of spring grass. I instantly softened. Just a kid. Shifting nervously on the spot, he made the juice on the tray he carried slosh around the tall glass. Two small daggers were fastened to a girdle around his narrow waist.

“Sorry…“, he murmured, fixating the floor decidedly.

“It’s alright. I was being rude too. Aren’t you a little young to be fighting with those?” I pointed at the daggers. He puffed out his chest, growing a few inches.

“I’m still in training, but they say I’ll be ready soon! I want to help _mirthadra_. He saved me from bandits. Until I’m made a real scout, I’ll do anything to be useful, even if it’s bringing breakfast to –“ He stopped himself short, realizing that his remark must have come across as insolent. “I mean… It’s an honour of course – eh – Lady. To bring you breakfast. You must be hungry.”

He stumbled to my table, almost spilling the entire juice across Solas’ books. I yelped and reached for the glass, snatching it from the unsteady tray. Maker’s sodden pants… I had a feeling that this boy was not assigned as a scout for reasons other than his age. Much too clumsy and fidgety… I don’t know if I took pity on him for being a glorified maid, or if I just felt desperate to connect with a single soul in my current lonely state.

“What’s your name?”, I asked, giving him the friendliest half-smile I managed. He bowed sketchily.

“Vin. I was assigned by _mirthadra_ to assist you if you need anything. Books, food, clothing – You only have to call for me… Lady.”

“My name is Arlenna. You don’t need to call me lady. _Mirthadra_ is Solas? What does that word mean?” The boy’s eyes widened.

“Oh, I shouldn’t – it wouldn’t be proper. You are a Lady. So pretty.”, he babbled, then blushed and looked away. “ _Mirthadra_ , that means ‘honoured one’, or… ‘leader’. Few call him by his real name, out of respect.”

Honoured my butt. Ill-mannered one, more like. Or patronizing one. Yet I had to admit, Vin’s attitude spoke of a deep devotion towards Solas in his followers. The same kind I had seen people express to my parents, when they were sometimes sought for help with various issues, ranging from political escapades to stolen silk shipments. Once it had been a horse breeder whose prized foals had gone missing.

In a knee-jerk reaction, I offered Vin to sit and have breakfast with me. I coaxed him to tell me how he came to be here. He’d been caught stealing coin from bandits to feed the other urchins in his alienage. They beat him senseless and threatened to kill him. At which point, it seemed, Solas had stepped in. The boy explained to me that my kidnapper used to travel far and wide across all of Thedas in search for elves to join his cause. But what on earth was the cause?

“He will build the elves a new home and make us great again. No more clans or alienage. No more ‘knife-ears’!”, Vin declared proudly.

Well, that didn’t sound so bad, although I doubted it was even half the truth. Why would he need me for such a task? He had all the help he could get. Willing help. But I didn’t want to jeopardize the first budding alliance I’d made in Var’Thenerasan. And… I liked Vin. A squirmy white mouse, he was, unable to sit still for any length of time. He kept arranging things around my table, knocking them over so I had to save the books several times from being soaked. I kept the conversation light, and when breakfast was done, I thanked Vin for his company. Then I had an idea.

“Vin… I don’t know if you can manage it, but could you try to find me something I can use as a curtain?” At his baffled expression, I went on. “Everyone keeps staring at me when they pass by… I feel like a macabre attraction… Wish I could be quartered in that tower, rather than this odd open space.” I pointed at the gleaming, ivory structure that rose beyond the little gazebo on the northern side. Vin looked taken aback.

“In the Spire? Oh no, Lady. That’s not possible. Only _mirthadra_ lives in the Spire.”, he said solemnly.

“Seems like a waste of space…”, I murmured under my breath.

“I do enjoy space.” Both me and Vin jolted as though we’d heard a haunting spectre speak. How on earth did the man just show up from nowhere?! Did he manifest out of thin air? Solas walked through the barrier, nodding to Vin and bestowing a small bow to me. I took a moment to gather my wits, while Vin stammered a greeting.

“Oh, it’s you.”, I kept my tone dispassionate. The mind takes pride in handling the body, yet one has to wonder how often reason gets the tables turned on itself. I seemed to be witnessing one of those times. Beneath my breastbone, the quick thud agreed gloatingly.

“I think we recently received some unused velveteen, Vin. See if you can repurpose it to Arlenna’s wishes.” The boy nodded and skipped off with enthusiastic steps, leaving me alone with my would-be teacher. Solas took a seat at the table and pulled the book I’d been reading since yesterday close. A pleased sort of expression fleeted across his face.

“A good one to start with. Does this mean that you have decided upon letting me teach you?”, he inquired, throwing me a sideways glance. I pulled out my most dignified appearance, floating towards the table regally. This might have been the first time I consciously chose to act like a lady. A queen even.

“I agree to your proposal. For now.” For a long minute, he was speechless. Well, look at that. Had I managed to stop the infamous Dread Wolf in his tracks? The small victory did not last. I’d never seen anyone who could summon a clinical, neutral mask to their face so quickly.

“Very well. Let us begin, then.”

And with no more than that, he became my teacher, Maker knows why. Why it had to be me and why it must have started under such dishonest circumstances, I still had no clue. Each time I’d asked him a question, his answers had only spawned more. At least the questions concerning magic, he did answer more or less clearly – in that eccentric, mystifying fashion of his.

During this first true lesson, Solas explained to me bluntly how everything I thought I knew about being a mage was wrong. He made an effort to be polite about it, although he did not quite succeed. Hearing that felt a bit like a slap to the face, and I bristled at the arrogance of such a statement. Yet then he elaborated, and I think that was the point when I began to understand how vast his knowledge was.

Magic would never be defined by the size of the fire-rune one can conjure or the number of icicles in a single summoning. Those were manifestations, the very last stage of magic. So much that happens before is ignored, Solas told me. Every mage should start out with the awareness of their own, personal connection to the Fade – the smallest unit, the first step of attuning.

I was surprised to learn that the ethereal world is not inherently dangerous. The emotions of people twist and change it, sometimes for the better – but more often for the worse. The reason for this, he said, was that hardly anyone in this age had ever stopped and tried to gain full understanding of the Fade, with no agenda to bend it to their will. But we would.

Solas instructed me in doing a meditation exercise that would help me enter my dreams with higher awareness. Several times, I drifted to the edge of sleep and hovered there, struggling to hold the trance for longer than a few seconds. If I fell asleep, he woke me. If I became more alert, he’d reach forth and let wooziness overtake me.

We practiced for hours. The sun rose between a sheet of hazy clouds and journeyed over the sky, while I listened. He had no notes, never once opened a book to look something up. Unlike any teacher I had ever had, he spoke purely from memory and experience. And he did it so passionately. Perceptive eyes alight with a keen intensity, a sublime dedication. It was infectious, magnetizing, and I felt… captivated.  

Long after midday, Vin returned with a bundle of fabric and another meal. Solas called an end to the lesson then. Yet he did not leave before giving me several small assignments – Read this book here, practice the meditation, take control in your dreams. I felt a sudden pang of disappointment. Time had rushed by so quickly… I hadn’t even noticed…

As Vin chattered on, unfolding the soon-to-be curtains, I was struck by the frightening knowledge that I had wanted Solas to stay. To tell me more, show me more. To watch his expression lose that deep-set heaviness when he spoke about the world of spirits.

And that last, incriminating wish was so disturbing, the glass of juice slipped from my hand. Vin had to run for towels and clean the whole mess up.   


	6. VI. Sundered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Solas-Tiiiiime! I actually enjoyed writing his POV here very much, didn't even edit it that much. A lot of things happen.

###  **VI. Sundered**

_I divided the world. My hands were the blades that rent apart all that I had ever known. I was the barrier that let none of the hideous creatures who’d exploited my brothers and sisters slip by me. They had ventured so far that they could not grasp reality firmly enough, exfoliated from their bodies. I sensed the spirits of the false gods, the exclamations of boundless fury as they were sucked into the slipstream of my creation. Pushed farther and farther back as everything split, tore, broke in twain._

_“Solas! What are you doing?!” My alshera, my Conduit, bravely holding the torrent of power. Over the deafening clamour, the cacophony of screams, I heard her voice. She did not understand the horrible thing she was helping me to do, and still she held on. Channelled magic into me, while I brought doom upon my people. My awareness reached so wide, I could feel countless places, see countless devastations. The ground shook. Giant pieces of rubble fell from the sky. Our floating towers, our crystal spires, our enchanted gardens. All built on foundations of magic, all brought to ruin._

_“Solas… Please stop… This is wrong-“, my alshera cried. Tears streamed down her face, blood from her nose. A rioting rainbow of colours flashed across her eyes, quicker and quicker. Too much. You are taking too much. The current held. I continued._

_“There is no other way.” Around me, Tarasyl'an te'las trembled. And elsewhere, everywhere, Elvhenan disintegrated. My hands shaped the very weapon I would drive into its heart for the killing blow._

_Two. There would be two. One physical. One ethereal. And I raised between them a Veil, to forever separate them from each other. Cutting the deep connection of living things to their dreams, their emotions. Their spirits. Denying the bodiless beings of wisdom, love and purpose to come forth and share, ever again. Beneath my feet, the stone cracked. Above, the sky burned._

_Just as well. I was finished. It was done. The channel broke abruptly, and I just barely caught the limp body before it could tumble into the abyss. She had held on even though she’d known it would mean death. Her eyes, still shimmering in every possible hue, watched the fall of our people. In this last moment, she was magic itself. Unending, enveloping, everywhere at once. And I saw through her eyes the full magnitude of what I had wrought._

_“I hope… you haven’t doomed us all…”, she whispered. And then she died. I had killed my alshera, who had trusted me with her life. Her, and thousands of others. Tens of thousands. If I had been mortal, the sheer extent of my guilt would have struck me dead. But instead, I sank to my knees on the shaking stones of my home as my mind fled it all. Out of this body that would be crushed beneath the weight of responsibility. Out of myself and the knowledge of what I had done. Away, away, into eons of sleep._

* * *

 

 

I woke with a strangled gasp into utter darkness. A hand went to my face, as though pressure against the throb in my head would lessen it. Delusions. Nothing helped on those nights when the memories of that day haunted me. But I did not ward myself against them, because to flee into oblivion meant disgracing the lives that had been.

I had to remember, always, eternally. It had been the last resort, the only way to keep the false gods from destroying the world. And so the double-edged blade had cut back at the innocent, the ones who had not deserved it. Saving the world meant destroying it. Every alternative would have been worse. And I went down that path once more, for the second time, over a thousand years later. Someone had to. Someone had to give my people back what they had lost. Great Destroyer, I had been called. This time around, I was very likely to destroy myself with it.

So tired, tired of it all. My skin felt damp with cold sweat, shivers racing across my spine. I would later not know if I made the choice willingly, or if my subconscious simply reached out, yearning so desperately for solace. I drifted into the Fade, drawn by her presence, the little dancing light of her spirit. Seeking refuge inside her dreams, which were of an artless beauty, pure and simple and… joyful. I took great care not to let her see me or notice my intrusion, but I could not make myself stay away. Watching her dream felt like a deep drink of an invigorating elixir. I took it selfishly, scoundrel that I was.

She practiced awareness and control, caught up in it completely. Changed things in her dream, like a magician from a fairy tale. Tables to street lanterns to apple trees. Rooms to streets to rolling fields. In these past weeks, Arlenna had progressed in her studies more quickly than I had predicted. The essential, indescribable connection she had to the Fade allowed her to learn things in a peculiar way: It was as if she needed to be reminded about them, rather than acquire entirely new knowledge. I watched her smirk at her own shenanigans, sensed the pride she took in having mastered this exercise.

Tomorrow night, she’d try changing people, or summoning a memory. Or maybe even reaching a spirit? No, that was still ways off. Not adept enough for that, and she knew. But she wanted to be. The actual Fade-walking required her to step back from emotion, though, while retaining full cognizance of her surroundings. It surprised me to see that she had no illusions about her weaknesses. She assessed her abilities realistically, and despite her penchant to drift off ever so often, she never harboured conceit.

Feelings had always boiled close to the surface, flaring impulsively with no temperance. The smile disappeared from her face and I mourned the loss of that rare sight. Only in her dreams could I see her smile. She never did so with me, much less at me. Although Arlenna had become more amiable since I’d begun teaching her, the lingering wariness in her tawny eyes could not be mistaken. She did not trust me. And why should she? I had not revealed the hideous task I would ask of her, but her instincts were good. I sensed her consciousness sweep over the surroundings, suspicious. Had she noticed me? Wiser to retreat for now.

Soon, I would need to start showing her ways to guard these dreams I enjoyed spying on, erect barriers against intruders – spirits of darker nature who might seek to invade her. Which would also, to some extent, cut me off from this source of comfort that she unwillingly provided. I did not look forward to it.

As I stood and poured water from a carafe, a useful thought occurred to me. Yes, she would like that. Or at least I hoped so. Maybe enough so I would gain a small measure of confidence, be given the benefit of the doubt. I needed her trust, otherwise she would never agree to help me when the time came.

We all deceive ourselves in despicable ways. While deep down we feel the truth, like a thorn to tender flesh. Despite all the wisdom I claimed to possess, I was no different. Convincing myself that my reasons were purely according to plan, to further my cause. Keep your distance, I’d sworn to myself. And how many times had I broken that resolution by now? Lord of Tricksters. Liar. Deceiver. I’d been called all those names, yet little did they know that the greatest deceptions I had managed had been the ones of myself.   

I had deluded myself that the Inquisition would only be a tool to use in unmaking the damage I had done by giving my orb to Corypheus. That orb had been my back-up plan for tearing down the Veil, a thing that worked similar to a Conduit’s channelling powers, only much more slowly. After gathering energy over hundreds of years, it could have worked. Without an alshera and following my long slumber, I had been too weak to use it.

But somehow, impossibly, Da’Assan received the Anchor and survived. She undid my mistake. Painstakingly, with many sacrifices, and in the end, it did almost kill her. If I had not intervened. Over and over, I tried to rationalize my friendship to her, cut its growth and gain distance. But loneliness had permeated me, down to my very bones. I had woken to a world where the living were blindfolded, silent to my senses. Ignorant to their loss, their half-life, their incompleteness.

The only one who remembered. Last of my kind. And Shenlira was the first person in so many lifespans who knew me only as Solas. Little Arrow, who became a kindred spirit, a companion to me. And now… What was I doing to her now? I had howled out into her dreams more times than I can count. _Ir abelas_. I am sorry. But her mind had always been secluded, well-guarded. Doubtful I had even managed to reach her. If I had, I received no reply or forgiveness. And then there was Sajnalin. A man in whose spirit the best of humanity had been made manifest. Any fragile hope that they would one day understand, maybe even enough to lay past grudges to rest… had been trampled. They both despised me now.

“Forgive me, old friends.”, I confessed to the night. It did not answer.

Days later, I sat together with Arlenna in her now curtained housings. To be honest, her idea had been a good one. No prying eyes to make her uncomfortable and although this was my home, even I found it more private this way. For reasons I did not want to dwell upon too closely, I felt uneasy with my people watching me teach her. They had been instructed to be polite and forthcoming, yet seemed regard Arlenna with covert contempt, avoiding her whenever they could. Loyal, all of them, but they could be… difficult at times, to say the least. Some, like Linala, had very stringent views on those elves who did not join the new Elvhenan society.

I had never intended civil war between my people, yet I could not force them to change their ideas. One of my greatest trepidations… That I would become the very thing I had sought to destroy – a tyrant coercing his followers to think like he did. Still… I did not agree with the way they treated Arlenna. She must be lonely… At least Vin kept her company, and I’d noticed that they got along well.

“You seem distracted.”, Arlenna’s light voice interrupted my thoughts. It suited her. A feminine, pleasant cadence that could quickly turn into the sharp point of a needle. “I made two mistakes in the past half hour, and you did not even point them out to me.” I tilted my head, taking my time in surveying her before I answered.

The setting sun that fell through the glass dome painted her in shades of amber, a sight that gave me pause. Copper facets glinted in her hair, which she had chosen to wear open today. Little sparks danced inside the tawny brown of her eyes, as though some impish sprite had sprinkled them with gold dust. The fire gem around her neck glowed in defiant contest, but she outshone it. Only a fool would not have taken note of her beauty by now. The perfect oval of her face, the snowy white skin with just the lightest blush the colour of a rose’s heart. I briefly closed my eyes to gain focus again.

“A student alerting the tutor to their mistakes… It must be the end of days.”, I ventured a jest, likely the first since she’d arrived here. I had yet to see her smile at me. Which reminded me…

“I realize the irony.”, Arlenna said in an almost blithe tone. The corner of her mouth twitched.

“What do you say if we call an end early today? And instead, I propose a challenge, for when you go dreaming tonight.” That got her immediate attention. She could not resist a chance to prove herself.

“Go on…”, she drawled.

“Since you were not quite happy about me… trespassing into your dreams, I wish to offer you a chance to… Even the score. When you go to sleep, do not remain inside your own dream. Try to enter mine, instead.” I had explained the basic theory of this exercise to her already, but she hadn’t practiced it yet. Arlenna suddenly looked taken aback, throat rippling with a swallow. The task must have daunted her.

“Do not worry. I will guide you and watch out so you won’t get lost. If you concentrate on the characteristics of my presence, you should be able to find me.”, I assured her. A frown furrowed her smooth brow, expression turning… what? Abashed? Did the blush on her cheeks deepen? Against my better judgement, I was quite curious why that would be…

“That isn’t what I…”, Arlenna began, then stopped herself. “Alright, I… will try.”

“Very well.”

* * *

 

So, as I coaxed the Fade to take shape that night, I chose familiar ground on which to meet Arlenna. My study in _Tarasyl'an te'las,_ Skyhold, during the time of the Inquisition. I had not been there since I’d left after Corypheus’ defeat and remembering it in detail brought back bittersweet memories. I stepped back from those emotions, yet did not deny their sentimental nature. Not long until I sensed Arlenna’s mind reach for me, in a clumsy, untried fashion. She fumbled like a person just shortly awoken from sleep, dazed and cautious. I called out to give her direction. Not with a voice – nothing so blunt. But through a tendril of thought, I tugged her towards me. She slid and glanced off the gossamer-thin curtain that separated my dream from the rest of the Fade, never having encountered such a thing until now. I had lowered all barriers so she could find me. This last one was merely the natural separation of my mind from the rest of the Fade.  

 _You have to get through that on your own, I-Am-Fated. Come now, I taught you how._ Her frustration intensified. She knew I was beyond that slippery sheet of ice, but it wouldn’t let her through! I sent a gentle rebuke her way, which seemed to make her recall the lessons on controlling emotions. Arlenna grasped the bridge I built with my thought and crossed over. She materialized right before me, swaying on her feet. I reached for one flailing arm and steadied her. Face a little too pale, eyes wide and unblinking. The experience she’d just went through could be quite intense and disorienting the first time.

“Steady now. That’s it. Well done.”, I praised her, for she truly had done well. Only four weeks before, she had not even tried to influence her dreams. Now she had enough control over her connection to the Fade to enter another’s representation of it. With help, of course, but the first great step had been taken. Arlenna straightened and looked up at me, the corners of her mouth pulling downward.

“You helped me… I felt your call. I didn’t manage it on my own.”, she sounded disappointed with herself.

“The idea of this has been to show you the concept of reaching another presence in the Fade. You are not expected to give a perfect performance, especially not on your first attempt. Besides… I had intended the exercise as an addition only. Actually, I wished to show you something.”, I placated, trying not to sound patronizing. She never took kindly to that. But right now, she seemed more interested in the surroundings. Her gaze swept around the circular room, absorbing its entirety.

The towering murals on the walls, the piled books on the ground or overflowing from the few shelves. My desk, cluttered with correspondence, tomes, quills and magically imbued items of all sorts. Above, the open space reached up to library. And even further was the Ravenry, spymaster Leliana’s domain. I remembered with some amusement how her birds had cawed everlastingly to each other, disturbing my sleep, until I’d had enough of it and blanketed the ceiling with a muting enchantment. It had been somewhat helpful.

“Where are we…?”, Arlenna asked in awe. I could not hold back a smile.

“We are in my study at Skyhold.” Recognition dawned in her eyes. She knew about Skyhold – naturally. As the daughter of the Inquisitor, she must have heard countless stories. “But what I wanted to show you is beyond that door.”

Arlenna followed me without hesitation, an intensely curious gleam in her eyes. Being told stories about something was very different to actually seeing it. The memory I had built my dream upon was of the celebration when the Inquisition had returned victorious from Adamant. A victory won at a high cost, but still.

People needed to revel at times like these, to bask in heroic achievements and draw energy from them. Nothing quite compared to the sheer vigour that charged the very air during a feast. And so, I opened the door to the hall and Arlenna stepped through. She startled, letting out a little cry of surprise.

Noise erupted around us, the whole place filled with people talking, dancing and singing to the tunes of the bard’s lute as she performed a jaunty piece that drew everyone to join in. The tables lining the giant room were laden with food and drink. Chandeliers with countless candles shed light upon the boisterous celebration, the colourful drapes on the walls, the shining silks and velvets and silver armour of the gathered participants.

Arlenna walked beside me, her eyes large as saucers, a keen thrill setting her features aflame. Inquisitive fox girl on the prowl, exploring. I had to bite back my mirth at the way she constantly zig-zagged around people in an attempt to avoid bumping anyone. She would simply pass through them, since this still was just a memory. But I had recreated it as best as I could. A small yelp escaped her and I turned towards the focus of her attention.

“There’s you!”, she pointed out – smirking to herself how ridiculous that sounded. My memory-self stood leaned against a wall on the war-room side and surveyed the goings-on with a relatively pleased expression. By my standards, at least.

“How young you look!”, Arlenna exclaimed, stopping me short.

“Do you truly think so?”, I queried in such a serious tone that she turned and gave me a genuine smile. A grin even, white teeth flashing.

“Of course not. I was joking. You look exactly the same.” Her voice sounded distinctly cheerful, prankish. I was assaulted by an uneasy apprehension that I had managed to manoeuvre myself into a trap of my own making. Seeing her relaxed and in such good spirits… She practically glowed. It stirred an unfamiliar feeling in my chest, a constricted, strange ache that denied to be banished. A treacherous heat creeped up my neck, originating from somewhere farther below. _Careful now_ , I reined myself in. But Arlenna’s attention had diverted again, thankfully.

“My parents!”, she cried suddenly. I saw. They stood some way off, almost at the steps to the throne, talking quietly to each other. Da’Assan, young and radiant, ever a little on the wild side. The top of her head barely reached up to Sajnalin’s shoulders. I had gotten so accustomed to using their Las’Amelin names that I almost never called them by their real ones in my head. Sajnalin in casual clothes had been a rare sight back then, nevertheless he commanded the space around him to a disciplined stillness. Or he would have, if he hadn’t donned such a pained expression as the slight elven woman tugged at him. Yet his eyes were gentle.

“It’s so strange to see them like this… So young. They look happy. Well, Mum does. Da not so much. He doesn’t like dancing in public.”, Arlenna noted, a bit subdued. I sensed the homesickness inside her, the dull, deep resonance of a pain that never really dissipated. She missed home wretchedly.

Maybe this whole idea of mine had not been so wise after all. I did not wish to sadden her. The ever-resourceful Da’Assan managed to badger her beloved into dancing and Arlenna watched them for a little while, a wistful smile playing on her lips. I cast my gaze around for a distraction. Ah, there was a man who could not ever be overlooked…

“Look.”, I touched Arlenna’s arm lightly and pointed to the tables. The Iron Bull had just lost a game of some sort. He stood, towering over everybody else, and emptied his tankard with one long swig. Arlenna’s mouth formed a big O. 

“Maker, I have never seen a Qunari so big before… That’s the Bull, isn’t it? He’s huge! And the horns – how does he not accidentally skewer people? Or walk through doors?”

“He turns sideways. Although in fact, I have once seen him walk _through_ a door. Literally.”, I noted. She threw me an arch look.

“Oh, and there’s Uncle Varric. He hasn’t changed that much. That same glint in his eye when he has a win streak at Wicked Grace.”, she chuckled. Then she turned back to the hall, craning her neck.

“Wait… Where did Mum and Da go? They were just there…” I cleared my throat.

“Oh, the humans have several expressions for it. My best guess is they eloped. You know… Hightailed it. Took a long hike off a short pier.”, I told her in a meaningful tone. It took a moment until Arlenna understood my implication. Her face screwed up with distaste.

“Ew.” It was so comical that I couldn’t help myself. I laughed, out loud. For the first time since… I didn’t even remember. The woman responsible eyed me as though I had gone insane. Then, my laughter seemed to infect her and she joined in.

I led her up to the gallery, from where one could overlook the entire hall. Usually the space above the throne was inhabited by Lady Vivienne, a quite opinionated but skilful mage with whom I’d not gotten along well. But she had joined the festivities, so me and Arlenna were the only ones here. She spent some time marvelling at the celebration, making remarks to several people she had heard stories about.

After a while though, she turned and examined the study, before striding out onto the balcony. I followed her. For a long moment, the usually animated fox looked deep in thought. She lifted her gaze to me, eyes searching, as if she hunted for some unknown truth in my features. Despite being tall for an elven woman, at arm’s length she still had angle her head backwards to do so. I wondered what she might be thinking.

“I don’t understand you, Solas.”, Arlenna said, frustrated. I startled, both from the words and the fact that she had called me by my name for the first time. I had given her a traditional dress in this dream, something my people used to wear in the days of Elvhenan. Elegant patterns and flowing fabrics that brought out the feminine shapes of her body.

A mistake on my part. Looking at her distracted me now, made me envision pushing the glossy silk from her shoulders so I could feel that ivory skin beneath my hands. What would she taste like? Sweet and vivid, I imagined. I inhaled and a wave of her scent rushed into my lungs, straining my self-control. Lily of the valley. It would be even more intense at the delicate curve of her neck, warmed by her pulse.

A pulse that would quicken and throb at my touch as she lay beneath me, a streak of moonlight setting her flawless, bare body aglow. I felt tension build low in my stomach and realized that I had not answered for some time, the silence lengthening.

What kind of animal was I, lusting after this innocent young woman, the daughter of my friends… I’d sworn to myself to keep her from harm as long as she was here… Arlenna had likely begun to trust me, one small ounce. And I had nothing better to do than picturing ribald fantasies of her in my bed. Now that the images were here, they stayed annoyingly persistent. I swallowed once, while she seemed to take my prolonged silence as a cue to go on.

“How have you lived with yourself when you lied to these people, continually? How could you just leave all of this behind, without looking back?”, she demanded. One endless day at a time, I-Am-Fated. If you only knew.

“Who says that I never looked back?”, I managed to keep my voice even. “I did not enjoy deceiving people I came to view as friends. Every night in my dreams, I am reminded of what I did. And I do not forget. But my course is unchangeable. There is only one path for me.”

“What could possibly be so important that you cut every tie, that you turn your back on everything else?”, Arlenna asked in disbelief.

“The name of this fortress, in ancient elven, is _Tarasyl'an te'las,_ ‘the place where the sky was held back’. Skyhold. Over a millennium ago, this was my home. This was from where I raised the Veil so separate the physical world from the spirit realm, the Fade.” Her eyes grew wide as I spoke. She was stunned into silence. “The people of old Elvhenan had a deep connection to magic. I severed that connection when I sundered the world. Everything we built, all our cities and miracles… Even our lifespans. It crumbled and fell to ruin. Hundreds, thousands died in that destruction.”

“You… created the Veil…? How? Why?” She shook her head, uncomprehending.

“Because every other option would have ended in something much worse.” I had told myself that so many times, it had become a mantra.

“And now?”

“Now I will undo the havoc I wrought upon my people. At any cost.” My tone was determined, ruthless. And still, Arlenna’s face changed… Her eyes filled with something I had never thought to see: Pity.

“You are consumed by guilt.” My hands lifted on their own, grasping her narrow shoulders. She did not resist, regarding me without fear. I knew not what drove me to do it. Instinct, or longing, or anger that she would pity me… But my head dipped towards her, until she was so close that I could feel the rush of her breath on my cheek. She didn’t move, frozen in place.

“Do not feel sorry for me. I am a villain. I do what must be done to further my cause. And you are a fox who happened upon a wolf’s path.”, I whispered against her lips, before I closed the small distance and kissed her.

A jolt went through the soft body I pulled to mine, then a shudder. Sweet, so sweet. Warm and pliant, the heady fragrance of her flooding my senses. She gasped in surprise, or shock – and I took the chance greedily. My tongue slipped into that honeyed sweetness, seeking, exploring. Her taste brought an array of disconnected, nonsensical memories to my head. Gingerbread, fresh out the oven. A bite from a ripe pear, exotic and mellow. A time once, eons ago, when I had allowed myself to desire, to crave.

I found her small, silken tongue and coaxed it to participate. So very shyly, she answered. Cautiously met me half-way, inexperienced, but her instincts made up for a lot. Mimicking a dance as old as life. My hand cradled her face, fingertips feathering over her temple, the line of her jaw, the dainty curve of a pointed ear. The russet mane that flowed like liquid flame around her. A hunger I had denied for too long sprang into motion, and my body reacted with such intensity I could barely grasp control over it. Everything came alive, singing in anticipation. Feel her skin to skin, lose yourself in her. Let go. I pressed her to me, closer. No space should remain. None.

But my luck did not hold. I knew the exact moment Arlenna passed the state of dazed compliance into shocked realization. She pushed against my chest and tensed all over, going rigid like a marble statue. The next moment, she’d broken away from me fiercely, eyes throwing out sparks of fire. Her hands went to her mouth and the insulted fury that lashed out at me was worse than if she’d physically slapped me.

“Bastard! Don’t ever do that again!”, she spat out. I did not cringe from her glowering, but held her stare as calmly as I could, considering the state of things.

“As far as I can tell, you were no passive observer in what just happened.” Her face flushed blatantly scarlet at my words and for an instant, she looked incredibly… vulnerable. Hurt. Spirits, I could have handled that with more finesse if frustration hadn’t made me so blunt. Next I knew, she whirled around and bolted without another word. Then she was gone. I sensed her consciousness soar, away from me, fleeing my dream more quickly than a shooting star.

* * *

 

I surfaced into darkness and lay still for several minutes, processing the strange turn this plan had taken. What on earth was I doing? It wasn’t like me to act this bold and wild, without thought. But I hadn’t been able to resist tasting her. She was a beautiful, untarnished, vibrant creature. I had no business dragging her even deeper into my world.

And now…. Tension pulled in my loins, body on a riot because it had been denied to follow its instincts. Damn it all. I threw back the covers and walked to the open window in my bedroom. It overlooked the dark forest behind Var’Thenerasan, a sight I often found restful when my dreams became too troubling. This was when I noticed that something felt off.

My senses prickled with awareness, suddenly wide awake and alert. I was not alone. With one small gesture, I sent a pulse of magic to sweep the room, and… There. A presence. Strangely distorted, I could not discern if I had encountered this signature before. Whoever it was, they had cloaked themselves in shadows. I could neither see them nor get a proper read on their aura.

“Show yourself or –“ I never finished that threat. The air split apart as the intruder threw a spell at me. Not just any spell. Magic so terrific and sinister that the hair on my arms and legs stood to an end. Old, ancient. A horrible curse, a beam of pure blackness. I knew that I could not deflect it, but nevertheless my hand lifted to defend myself. That was where the spell hit home.

It felt like being burned alive in the fires of hell. The evil magic licked along my skin, raced through my blood to my heart. The muscle struggled, jerked violently. I was branded, not just superficially but down into the depth of my soul. Convulsions shook my body and the sheer force threw me backwards.

Finding balance was impossible. I tripped and fell, out the window. The fall would kill me. I’d seen the seasons turn hundreds of times on this world, and now this was to be my doom? Yet it didn’t even come to me witnessing my own death. Darkness rolled over me, an avalanche of visions that came with the atrocity that I knew spread through my body like wildfire.    

I plummeted through angry skies that churned with a building storm. Streaks of lightning flashed across it. For one split second, they illuminated everything. Yet the accusing, evil eyes that watched me stayed hidden in the shadows, while they battered me with images I had never wanted to see. With my last remaining strength, I tore myself away from it, rushing towards the small light I knew meant escape.      

Awakening right into the next horror. I was wrong, all wrong. The nightmare still ate at me, rendering me immobile. Rain of fiery arrows darkening the sky, creatures even worse than demons ripping my people apart. Var’Thenerasan, burning, falling to pieces. The presence of a blood-curdling evil, an entity of the deepest shadows. And then… Nothingness. Void. How long had I been unconscious? A minute? A day? How had I survived a fifty-feet fall from the Spire?

Attacked! I had been attacked. A spell, immensely powerful. Aimed at my heart. Not possible to deflect it completely. Thoughts intruded upon my own and battled for control. Savage thoughts so alien to me I felt terror I had not known for a long time. Kill, run, eat. Kill! No, those weren’t mine! Hunt, rip. What was happening to me? A stunning pain cleaved through me, radiating from my left hand. A bolt of pure agony. I could not think clearly through that white-hot blaze. My home! I had to alert them. Had anyone else been attacked? Spirits – Arlenna. An image of her flashed through my mind, broken, lifeless. My throat produced a deep growl.

“Where is _mirthadra_?” A voice. I did not recognize it, but it sounded worried. The pungent smell of grass and earth beneath me. I should not have been able to hear them speak so clearly from all the way down here.

“I do not know. He does this sometimes, disappear for a night or two. Do not trouble yourself.” Linala! No, damn you, that is not what happened – “Most likely he has gone to dream somewhere in the Spirit Wilds. The worst timing… There is nothing we can do until he returns. He won’t be happy that the girl escaped.” Arlenna? Fox is gone? No. How? Run. Eat. Hunt. Forget. Stop!

I was wrong. Body and mind, all wrong. The balance was off, head too heavy, legs too light. I swayed as I tried to rise to my hands and feet, at least. When I finally managed to open my eyes, I saw each individual blade of grass on the ground. And with an unnatural sharpness I looked at the great clawed paws, pitch black, thickly furred, where my hands should have been. I threw back my head and howled into the night, desperate, maddened.

“Spirits, did you hear that? A wolf so close to us? See if you can chase it off, Irineth.”, I heard Linala every word sharp. The other thoughts became overpowering, grabbed my weakened mind between giant jaws and worried it violently. The thoughts of a savage beast. Me. Hunt. Forget. Run. I ran.    

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now that we have gotten up to this point, a few days ago the drawing fever got to me and I made this artwork themed for Redemption:
> 
> [ ](https://orig00.deviantart.net/e30e/f/2018/093/5/d/dread_wolf_by_merryminstrel-dc7rion.png%22)
> 
> Click it for the true size, much details!
> 
> The original post on deviantart is [found here](https://merryminstrel.deviantart.com/art/Dread-Wolf-738635351)
> 
> If you like it, please feel free to visit me on tumblr! <https://merryminstrel.tumblr.com/>
> 
>  


	7. VII. Dread Wolf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your kudos and encouraging comments! <3 They make my day!   
> The quote at the beginning of this chapter is from Robin Hobb's Royal Assassin. I found it very fitting.   
> I'm very glad that I have gotten to this important part of the story, because the idea of the Dread Wolf's curse had been one of the first things I'd determined. Also Arlenna and Solas finally begin to really bond through the events now set in motion.   
> Have fun!!

### VII. Dread Wolf

_Come, hunt with me, the invitation whispers in my heart. Leave the pain behind and let your life be your own again. There is a place where all time is now, and the choices are simple and always your own.  
Wolves have no kings._

* * *

 

 

The dead of the night, reassuring gloom. Perfect if one wanted to calm down from a shattering experience, soothe the vortex of insult and confusion that tore the mind this way or that. I lay in bed, arms wrapped tightly around me, curled up in a childish gesture of seeking comfort. I couldn’t believe what had happened.

He’d kissed me! Out of nowhere. Not a small peck on the cheek or a respectful brush to the forehead. A full-fledged kiss, nothing alike the innocent ones I had received from the occasional interested suitor. There had never been tongues involved. Oh Maker… That bastard… It had been my first real kiss. My thoughts resembled a very crowded crossroads, so jammed that they could neither move forward nor backward. And behind it, a small voice whispered that I was not so much angry at Solas that he had taken such an outrageous liberty, but more because of my own reaction to it. And the fact that he made a very truthful remark on it which I struggled to push off as a lie. But I had participated.

Not just participated. I’d enjoyed it. The giddy excitement, the thundering of my heartbeat, the sheer sensuality of his tongue on mine. So certain, inquisitive, wicked… No! Stop this nonsense at once, I yelled inwardly at myself. Why would he kiss me? Maybe he was hatching some evil plan to woo me, to make me more agreeable to his wishes. Yet… It hadn’t felt deceptive. It had felt real. Real in a dream. I could have laughed at my naïve fancies.

Damn, damn, damn. Solas’ motives seemed like a winding labyrinth, and I had a sinking trepidation that I’d already walked so far into it that I would not find the way out anymore. I wished desperately for someone to confide in about the whole mess. I was so wretchedly lonely in this place. Despite Vin’s company, the boy was not the best focal point for – dare I say it? – romantic advice. He pretty much worshipped Solas, and would probably even encourage me. I let out a sound of bitter amusement.

My aimless musings could likely have gone on for hours, hadn’t a sudden, strange feeling prodded my mage senses to alert. The barrier around my quarters usually dampened all magic, similar to an opaque veil hindering sight of things beyond. Only in my dreams could I truly pass it. But right now, there was something odd going on. I leapt out of bed and drew aside the curtains to find several elves – most bleary-eyed from having just awakened – running across the courtyard. They called to each other in their native language, agitated, fluent words I could not understand. But I saw where they headed.

Above the open space floated the Sphere of Mythal, as Solas had dubbed it. The spell inside was one of singular nature, although I knew not its exact purpose. I reckoned quite certainly that it served as a ward or protection, and at the same time it somehow burned with perpetual energy that Var’Thenerasan needed. Right now, something disrupted it. The miniature sun inside the sphere flickered in a frantic way, throwing out streaks of pure white light beyond its boundaries.

And as it struggled, the strength of my barriers waned too. I sensed it. Half a dozen elves formed a circle around the great orb and began chanting a spell – probably to pacify the angry eruptions. Then, within an instant, the thing sent a violent pulse across the whole courtyard, ripping the mages from their feet. The barrier shattered beneath that assault, vanishing with a faint hiss, while the spell inside the sphere seemed to diminish, grow smaller, until the sun was barely one third of its previous size.

But I did not watch further. My mind caught up with the events and realized… I was free. Everyone must have been knocked senseless for a moment by the eruption. Everyone except me, protected by the barrier. Which was gone now. I did not even think about it. I grabbed a cloak and ran. Through the curtains on the other side where the gazebo stood so closely to the Spire that nobody would see me in the gloom. What immense luck must have played into my hands to make the Sphere of Mythal act up like a fussy wench?

The walls of Solas’ Spire gleamed white even in the sparse moonlight, but behind lay an utter and complete darkness created by towering trees. I fled into their embrace blindly. The sounds of anxious cries reached me from the settlement, growing fainter and fainter as I ran on. They were soon replaced by the noises of an old forest long past sundown. Rustles of leaves in the wind, the snaps of tiny twigs as some animal foraged the ground for food, the eerie hooting of owls. After a while, my steps slowed to a trot and I gulped deep breaths of the cool air, listening.

Maker, the woods were creepy at night. A shiver of fear slithered down my spine. The feeling of being watched by unseen eyes was like an icy touch on my nape. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea after all. The darkness here was absolute. I could not see more than a few feet in front of me, and soon I was stumbling along, a burden to myself. I could have lighted a flame in my hand, but… The elves had likely noticed my absence by now and had gone looking for me.

Oh damn it all. Me and my stupid rashness all over again. Fool! What if I got lost? Or happened upon some large animal who saw their next meal in me? My mother’s voice suddenly sounded in my head, as clearly as though she stood right beside me: _The forest is not more dangerous than a city is, Arlenna. Even less so. Any predator will leave you alone if they think you are too much work. The same does not apply to humans. They are inherently foolish._

But her advice did not help against the paranoia that became stronger with ever step I took deeper into the wilds. My senses were wildly overstrung, each innocent sound magnified, each little crack making me jump. I could not shake the feeling that…

I stopped short, every instinct suddenly on edge. No mistaking it, I’d heard a growl. A deep, low, menacing growl. It was the point where I stopped caring if I’d give away my position. One trembling hand lifted and I conjured a flame. The flickering light danced over dark tree trunks, bushes with pointed leaves, mossy undergrowth. I didn’t dare to breathe as my eyes strained to see… Another growl came, much closer now, from the depths between two primordial oaks. Something lurked in those abysmal shadows. Something that watched me hungrily, calculating, yearning to rip…

My heart dropped to my stomach when I saw the three pairs of eyes glint in the blackness. They glowed ghostly green, like graveyard flames. Or… Veilfire. And the next moment, the thing that stalked me stepped forth into the cone of light.

A wolf so huge it would have towered over any man. Pitch-black fur thick and bristling, the thuds of its giant, deadly paws near soundless. I could not move. Completely frozen in place at the sight of the razor-sharp white fangs, each of them the length of a dagger. The beast stepped closer, and if I did not flee soon, I would end up between those jaws. Snapped like a twig. But how could I even hope to run from a thing so big? And although my fear threatened to drown out everything else, I could… sense him.

An aura of confusion, terror, anger… A faint echo of a memory tried to make itself known to me. Where had I seen a six-eyed beast before…? In a dream… A vision… Right before –

The giant wolf snarled, so close now that his breath blew back my hair. Within arm’s reach. He inhaled deeply, and I caught… Something in those unsettling green eyes, an emotion… Recognition. I would later not know why I did it. But in a streak of foolhardiness, I reached out a hand. He flinched back momentarily, a menace rising from his chest. Then, as though some puppet-master took over the strings to his body, he leaned towards my touch and pressed his great black forehead to my palm.

The onslaught of thought nearly wrecked me. It was a charging bull, a battering ram, an avalanche. A wild array of images flashed through my head – tumbling towers of breath-taking beauty, a sky torn apart by green lightning, countless spirits rushing by in a rainbow of colours. I saw glimpses of elves, but they were unlike any elves I had ever seen. So haunting that their perfection stunned me and I wanted to fall to my knees and weep.

And then cities, streets filled with slaves, enchained and broken – And me as I walked among them to break the shackles, to tear the markings from their faces. I saw terrifying beasts of shadow, monsters spawned by the Great Dark Beyond, standing sentinel beside a giant black throne. A woman sat on it, regal and unforgiving, a goddess whose ire knew no bounds.

The thoughts turned even more erratic – a darkened room and the sensation of an intruder. Attacked! A flood of pure evil, a curse to hit my heart – Falling, changing, void. Now I am this, I know nothing anymore where I had known so much. Savage, stunted, animal. Rip, kill, hunt, eat. Forget. Run. Fox. Gentle girl. Biting girl. Foxtail. Run away, flee!

The cacophony of visions, the chatter of those disconnected thoughts was too much for me. I fell to my knees, gasping as my battered mind struggled to understand it. He loomed above me. All of his six eyes bore into mine, piercing and… mysterious. This could not be real. It just couldn’t be. Yet I knew in my heart that it was him. Because in that gaze, although distorted and ferocious now, dwelled the same vast spirit, the same knowledge of hundreds of years.

“Dread Wolf.”, I whispered. Anger flashed in his eyes. The cruel irony of that name was upon him now. He jerked his head aggressively, as though telling me ‘No! Wrong!’.

“Solas.”, I amended. “Your name is Solas.” In reaction to those words, he bent to me and I let out a little cry when the warm, bushy fur at the side of his face pressed to mine, muzzle resting on my shoulder. Maker’s breath… My heart literally skipped a beat. Tentatively, I lifted a hand and let my fingers tangle into the soft pelt at his throat. It vibrated with the rumble he intoned. I felt the mad urge to laugh at this utterly bizarre situation.

“What happened? Who did this to you?” He huffed in frustration to my words. For my sake, he tempered the tumultuous vortex of emotions and attempted to communicate a cautious image to me. A presence he had felt after he’d woken this night, cloaked and seething with dark purpose – and the troubled tint to his thoughts… Betrayed. From the inside. Strangers could not find Var’Thenerasan, it was too well hidden and protected.

“You think one of your own did this?” The implication was shocking. If I knew one thing, then that his followers were absolutely loyal. The wolf bared his teeth, then seemed to rein himself in. I had a faint inkling what he was going through. He’d been cursed to take this form and the dark magic somehow affected his mind, turning him into an actual beast, a Dread Wolf. It must be horrifying for someone who valued their sane, intelligent mind above all else, to be reduced to think animal thoughts. He battled it with all his might, but it had weakened him greatly. The Sphere of Mythal… Had it acted so unsteadily because of Solas being attacked?

He suddenly leaned into me again, and in that touch one thought carried over so clearly, sharpened to the point of a needle: _I need your help_. I sensed how much it cost him to voice this plea. His pride lay in shambles, and he was a proud man if I’d ever met one. I wanted to be furious at him about the kiss, but that seemed so childish now that the situation had turned so dire.

Many would ask what madness inclined me to come to my captor’s aid, after he’d mercilessly taken me from my home. But they never witnessed what I had. The effort he put into teaching me what he knew, despite my irritable behaviour. During these last weeks, he’d stayed patient and calm, even when I weathered at the annoying, endless meditation, the difficulty of his teachings. And… They had not come to know him. I doubted anyone had, not in a long time.

“How do I help you? I don’t know anything about curses, and I have no idea who –“

_Am… weakened.,_ his thought cut me short _. Var’The… Home. Home is vulnerable. Need your power, alshera. Conduit_. I gulped. He wanted me to channel magic from the Fade for him. We had not even strayed close to training that and I knew next to nothing of the procedure. The general outlook frightened the wits out of me, to put it mildly. I had read one book that vaguely described the theory behind a Conduit’s channelling, but… I’d started shaking my head in denial.

“I’m not even… I can’t do it, I don’t know how!” My protest was met by a resigned sigh _. I will show you. Trust me._ A pause. Then… the one word that broke my will to resist: _Please_. Nodding heavily, I startled at the strange whining noise he made. I interpreted it as gratitude.

Then I experienced the oddest sort of conversation yet, and that was saying something after telepathically speaking to a wolf. Solas let knowledge carry over to me, not in the form of images or words, but… much more complex than that. Like being given an exact, flawless explanation of what an apple is, without ever having seen, held or tasted one. I cannot properly describe it. To be honest, I did not quite comprehend most of it, but I got the general gist of what he meant to show me.

I needed to become a bridge on which people could only walk one way. Without becoming too wide or too narrow, too slanted or too winding. I kneeled on the moss-covered forest floor and lifted both my hands to bury inside the wolf’s fur. Warm. Soft. Empty the mind of all hindrances. Become a leaf floating on the currents of energy, never delving too deep. The one time I had done this, it had happened on mere instinct and been fuelled by anger.

Now, I consciously drifted into the Fade, reaching out, a child trying to catch a butterfly. Power for Solas. At first, I grasped nothing. The Fade eluded me, slipped through my fingers as sand through tiny cracks. But then I began to sense patterns. Knitted tendrils of raw energy blanketing everything around me, like a very finely woven net. How could I explain what I did next? I pulled a loose thread through the eye of the needle that was me and began… stitching. Whatever was created by that act, I directed towards Solas and sensed as he drew strength from it. I made a bridge. A channel. I became a Conduit. Draping the fabric that spilled from my hands around him.

And the more I took, the stronger the current through me grew, the easier it was. Magic filled me as a gushing river fills a parched bank, and I could feel myself stretch wide, along the boundless, eternal net connecting everything. Why did anyone ever want to be confined to a body, a constricting heap of sinew and muscle, if they could be this grand instead?

_Be careful, Fox_. At my other… end, I sensed Solas’ consciousness with such clarity it nearly blinded me. I saw not Dread Wolf, not the monster I had carelessly called him once. I saw Pride, a breaker of chains and seeker of knowledge. Shrewd and manipulative at times, yes. Mischievous, clever and so full of stories at others. He’d known joy and the deep bonds of love, but also great grief and guilt, so much guilt… Loneliness. Pure, pristine loneliness, permeating him down to the core. If I could scatter into the net of magic, I could take away some of that. I was sure of it –

_Arlenna, enough. You are taking too much._ His words rang with agitation, even fear. I did not know how to break the current. My soul frayed at the edges and unravelled. Agony, tearing me to pieces. But Solas was there. He reached out and… embraced me, so gently, keeping me contained in my own self, an individual. The channel broke off as he severed my connections to the Fade and erected a shield around us, so thorough that nothing could escape – or enter. The world went dark around me.

* * *

 

When I came into awareness again, the first thing that I noticed was the herbal scent of cloves and sage, enticing to my senses. My head rested against fabric saturated by body heat and strong arms held me. One around my shoulders. The other at the bend of my knees. I was being carried.

“Impetuous, Ren. Too much, too quickly.” His voice came from somewhere above, just the slightest bit shaky and… angry? I forced my eyes open, but saw only the blurred fold of a robe and… pale, naked skin beneath. The black thread that held his wolf-jaw talisman, meandering down over a perfectly formed collarbone. Oh.

“What happened?”, I managed to ask through my fuzzy thoughts. I felt as though my head had been stuffed with wool, while my body was a bag of stones. So heavy.

“Me almost losing you to the Fade happened.”, Solas snapped. He sounded really angry, for his standards. Great way to show your gratitude, I grumbled inwardly. A long silence followed, before he spoke once more. “ _Never_ do that again.”

“You’re some… some hypocrite, you know that?” Venturing to be sarcastic, no easy feat in this state. “You asked me to do it, remember?” His chest expanded with a deep sigh.

“I know. And I will not ask you for it again before I have thoroughly, thoroughly prepared you.”, Solas stated, his tone adamant. Could he be… worried about me? The notion made a silly giggle bubble up my throat. I really wasn’t in a good state. He gazed down on me, a troubled knit in his brows, moonlight glancing off the bare top of his head.

“You are you again.”, I noted to distract from the outburst. Yet the frown deepened.

“More or less. A curse like this is not broken so easily, but… You helped me return to my real self, for now. I wonder at what expense.” You and me both. A persistent pounding had started inside my skull, drilling its way through the sockets of my eyes. Oh damnation, that hurt. Unable to contain it, a groan escaped me. Solas’ hand around my shoulder flexed, stiffening.

“As I thought. I am taking you home. You need rest and I have to assess the damage you have done to yourself.” I was too tired and in too much pain to comment on the very familiar, condescending phrasing of that remark. Somehow, I even found it a little funny.

“Alright.”, I conceded, leaning against the warm, solid mass of his chest. The muscles rippled with a small shiver, but I already drifted off into a state of semi-consciousness.

Only minutes seemed to have passed when I was cautiously lowered to a soft mattress and draped with a nice blanket. A tender touch ghosted over my damp forehead, soon replaced by a wonderfully cool cloth. The fingers quested to the side of my neck where the pulse felt jittery and quick. I opened my eyes to an unfamiliar room. The dim, spectral light of a small veilfire brazier cast lively patterns upon the murals on the walls, very similar in style to the ones I had seen in Solas’ dream. They blurred and veered dangerously as I tried to focus on them.

“Keep still.”, his voice from beside me. He held a cup of water to my lips and I sipped in solemn obedience. “I have seen this happening to several alsheras before. The body and the mind are inseparably linked. You overtaxed yourself.” I looked at him for a long moment.

“Thank you. For… for keeping me together.” Surprise showed on his sharp features, in the depth of his enigmatic eyes. Then a small smile came to his lips. It did not make gathering my wits easier, on the contrary.

“It is me who should be thanking you. Without you, I might still be a beast. You made me remember myself.”, Solas said severely. I battled the blush that must be blooming on my cheeks.

“Well, I have given you a lot of cr…. I mean, made things hard for you these last weeks. I should… Should be returning to my room.” But he shook his head in a decided fashion.

“No. Not tonight you won’t. I want to keep an eye on you.”

“I can’t stay here! It wouldn’t be…”, I protested, searching for a word. “… proper.” Solas threw me an arch smile, the scoundrel.

“I think we passed proper when you fainted at the sight of me naked.” Now I was blushing for real. I felt the heat race to my face. Now that he mentioned it, I noticed that he wore a robe around the shoulders, the open folds showing his bare chest. Once I saw, I couldn’t really look away. My eyes would just not obey. The light revealed a formidable physique, lean and feline. One could see each individual muscle at work as he moved to sit at the bedside. He was not built for strength, but rather speed and grace, elusive like a stealthy hunter. At least he had put on some linen pants, otherwise I might have burst into flames from awkwardness.

“It seems when I was tuned into a wolf, I left all my clothing behind. A very inconvenient side-effect. I borrowed your cloak on the way back.”, Solas elaborated matter-of-factly. “Do not worry, Ren. I will only sit by your side and go dreaming. Maybe I can find some clue…” He trailed away. Even though he did not voice it openly, I sensed that he was furious and… afraid. Or rather unsettled. I wanted to ask him why he hadn’t alerted his people to what happened, yet at the same time as that question came to me I knew the answer: He did not trust anyone right now. An intruder who had managed to bypass Var’Thenerasan’s protection was much less likely than a turncoat among his people.

And until he knew who had been behind it, he would keep the specifics secret from them. How strange... As I lay there watching him, I became aware that something was different between us. I felt… a connection to him. A faint, gossamer-thin thread that linked us. I had known these things because they had trickled over along that thread from him to me. And it seemed to work both ways. Solas’ eyes found mine and his expression turned pensive. I was sure that he knew much more about such connections than I did. Maybe they were normal between mages and their Conduits. We had, after all, shared a very intense mind-link when I had siphoned energy for him.

“What will happen to you now? Because of the curse?” I didn’t know why I blurted this out. But I had not liked him being helpless and mad inside that wolf body. It had felt all wrong. Suddenly, as if unable to stop himself, Solas reached for me. The backs of his fingers gently brushed my cheek, making the breath catch in my throat.

“I don’t know. But we will figure it out, Ren.”, he said quietly. Weariness threatened to drag me down against my protests. I stifled a yawn, already halfway to sleep. Eyelids growing heavy.

“What does that mean, that word?”, I murmured.

“Fox.”, he whispered. As I drifted into a dreamless slumber, I remembered an old elven fable about a fox and a wolf. They did not get along in the beginning, but were forced to join forces so they could take down a snake marauding their hunting grounds. Well, if I was Fox, then he should be Wolf. Without the ‘Dread’ prefix, it sounded much less threatening. And by now I had come to understand – reluctantly, but still – that he might not be that dreadful at all.    


	8. VIII. Change of Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for the comments <3 They are always welcome!  
> This chapter now is a bit calmer, a little bit of soul-searching for Arlenna before things get really... Well, let's say turbulent. :D  
> Also FORESHADOWING, writing's greatest tease.

###  **VIII. Change of Heart**

_Never feel guilty for following the voice of your heart. If you fear failure, you invite it to come calling. Change your mind, and change it again. What reason dictates as right might turn out just as much of a mistake as making an actual mistake. Grow into yourself, unapologetically, imperfectly, bravely. There is no beauty like the one of a genuine spirit._

* * *

 

 

“You have failed me.” The perfect black orb floated gracefully before the cloaked figure, pulsing like the beating heart of a living creature with each fluent word that came from its depths. Not bigger than a fist, yet still the sphere of pure shadow harboured marvellous magic inside. Marvellous… and terrible. The surface seemed to undulate with dark energy, a shifting, inky sky that had never known either moon or stars.

“The spell I gave you was ancient. Unique. The time it took to create it would be measured in several of your negligible lifespans.”, the orb spoke again, in a voice spun from umbral silk that managed to be both gorgeous and haunting – despite the magical distortion. The servant who received the spine-chilling censure shivered with unease.

“I beg your forgiveness, _mir’enalis banal’ras_. I did fail you, and Fen’Harel did not succumb to your curse. He lifted a hand before it could strike his heart. I deserve your eternal wrath for such a foolish mistake-“

“Indeed you do, yet for all your folly you did infiltrate the wolf’s den quite effectively. I shall grant you a second chance, my pet. Only this time, I will not leave anything to chance. Come closer.” The words were velvet-soft, almost gentle, as a mother would speak to her child. Soothing, like an embrace during a cold, lonely night.

Mesmerized by the beauty of this voice, the servant leaned closer to the sphere. Close enough to see into its very core, to have a glimpse of what lay hidden in the deepest shadow. Too late, the knowledge dawned. That the entity dwelling inside never gave second chances. It was no gentle mother to shelter a poor mortal’s spirit beneath her wing.

It was vengeance incarnate, eons of hatred. A thing that would glide elegantly over mountains of corpses to get its revenge, and smile in the process. As the creature inside the orb reached forth, cutting into its faithful one’s mind as a warm knife cut through butter, making itself a home within, the servant only had a single thought of pure terror. _What have I done?_

And then, a moment of unspeakable agony later, the cloaked figure straightened. But now another rode in the same body, looked out into the world from beneath the hood, smiling with two rows of perfect white teeth. Ah, well, this would work just fine. Free at last.

“Let the hunt begin.”

* * *

 

I awoke to the dim greyness before dawn, stirred by a dream. Even though I trained daily to be aware of my dreams, they still often eluded me, memories fleeing away too quickly to be caught. I remembered being confined to a very dark place, somewhere far, far away. An uneasy feeling still lingered, but otherwise… Little else.

It was so early still that the room lay in vague shadows, colorless and silent. One bird sang its solitary song outside, calling my ever-present loneliness to life with it. I looked around the room without moving. This must be where Solas sleeps. Wide, ornate windows opened towards all four cardinal directions, and there was still enough space between them to wear stunning images painted in careful detail. Howling wolves beneath a pair of full moons, a golden city with tiny, elegant figures strolling between its gleaming columns. A large part of the wall was curtained though, and I suspected that it hid an unfinished work of art. No desk here, or much other furniture for that matter. Only one cushioned reading chair that stuck out from the traditional, elven surroundings because it was undoubtedly of orleisian design. Piled up books flanked it like little watchtowers. Ha, funny, that. Maybe reading while sitting in elven chairs was not very comfortable.

With the distraction exhausted, my eyes finally acknowledged Solas beside the disproportionately large bed I lay on. _His_ bed, the presence and scent of him so strong that it filled my every sense. The man himself sat cross-legged beside it on the ground, upright and motionless. Eyes closed. Strange to see someone sleeping in a position I deemed anything but relaxed.

I wondered if he still treaded the Fade or was actually asleep now, and so my curiosity had me questing along the fine thread that linked us. My mage senses had recuperated from the exertion last night and casually registered several protective spells around the room, along with a veritable cornucopia of magical residues. Well, that shouldn’t surprise me. This was his home. Wolf’s consciousness, on the other hand, felt as if he concentrated on something far away. Simultaneously, he filed through countless old memories in search of a particular one. How smoothly he did it, his mind not even truly taxed by handling those things all at once.

I thought about joining his dream, but my attention was caught by the pale arm that rested on the mattress. His hand lay extended towards mine, as though he’d been holding it during the night. The thought of that possibility made me swallow hard. Faint marks wound over the skin in a complex pattern, like faded tattoos. Beautiful, but also somehow… disturbing. Looking at the swirly glyphs made my eyes weary. I wanted to avert my gaze, but couldn’t.

On closer inspection, they looked etched, painful… and had definitely not been there before yesterday. The curse must have hit him there. I wondered with some uneasiness what would have happened if it had struck at his heart as intended. Cautiously, I reached for Solas’ hand, fingers hovering just above the markings.

“It is not a pleasant sight, is it?”, his voice made me flinch back as if I’d been caught during a childish prank. I witnessed then the intimate detail that Solas did not wake as any normal person would. He didn’t twitch or stretch, or even move in a dazed fashion at first, still woozy. His remarkable eyes simply opened and regarded me, fully alert.

“Doing things the normal way is just too boring for you, is it?”, I pointed out a little more unfriendly than necessary, perhaps. I always turned churlish when I felt embarrassed. Yet he gave me a faint smile.

“Hardly anything I do is of little consequence. Why pretend otherwise?” A point taken, I had to concede. Although as always, he managed to make it sound more arrogant than it needed to be. But the next moment, his expression became troubled. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine. A little tired.” I sat up and issued half a shrug. “Hungry, though.” I surveyed his reactions carefully. He tried to hide it from me with a casual demeanour, but I sensed that he was exhausted and worried. “What about you? These… markings? I have never seen glyphs so complex… This one here looks a little like something I’ve seen in my mother’s letters to the clan, but…” I scowled at the intricate rune.

“You would not have seen them unless you had travelled to our oldest ruins, such as the Temple of Mythal. They are written in the language of the ancient elves.” To my question what they meant, his answer was this:

_“Mar’enesal elen iras evanuris alys Fen’Harel,_   
_Orenes banal’faras el’taris vir’velgar_   
_Far’ilen vis alas selen vas alaslennen.”_

At home, I had been taught abundantly about elven lore and learned a few select words, but to study the difficult language itself had never been imposed on me although my mother had surely wanted to. The beginning of my training at the Circle had taken up much of my time since the age of twelve, and I suspected that she hadn’t the heart to limit my free time with further lessons.

Elven, and even more so the ancient dialect of it, was a language of beauty, a delicate song much less literal than the human tongue. Rather one expressed meaning through intonation and cadence than through explicit wording. Even my father, who had studied it extensively, had never become more than a journeyman at it. The curse was a terrifying thing, but hearing Solas recite its words, it sounded more like lovely poetry than anything else.

“Translated loosely, it says _… For your crimes against the gods, you shall be swallowed by shadow, Dread Wolf, and become a mindless beast in body and soul. A hunted hunter you will be, as the world unites in hatred against you_.” Repulsed by the spite in those deceptively graceful words, I could not find a coherent reply. Solas sighed once, in a tired manner.

“If it had worked the way it was intended to, I could never have returned to my original form. I would have been a monster, forever. A cleverly thought-out punishment, as far as these things go. All of my knowledge lost. My mind, burned away by savage thoughts, until I would kill, and nothing more. As it is, it will spread.” The smooth tone in which he said this both frightened and agitated me.

“How can you be so calm about facing such a cruel fate?”, I demanded, frowning at him. Instead of an answer, Solas suddenly reached for my hand, blanketing it with his palm. I did not pull away, too startled to even move.

In that touch, the link between us flared to a bright beacon. He let me glimpse the feelings well-hidden behind the tranquil façade: Crimson ribbons of anger, toxic green dots of affront and a dark, red wish for retaliation. But behind it, in an undercurrent that never seemed to leave, I felt guilt and shame. Those emotions were his most faithful, loyal companions. I gazed down at the faded tattoos on that before unblemished skin. He had the hands of a scholar. Refined, erudite. So skilled at weaving magic…

With an intense gush of embarrassment, I realized that he must be sensing my idiot musings through the link, for the connection worked both ways, I was sure of that. I denied the first instinct to pull my hand away and instead forced myself to think quiet, non-committal thoughts. If Solas had noticed anything odd, he did not comment on it. I bit my lip and, as so often when under duress, blurted out the first thing that came to my mind.

“What is this?” Nicely done, dolt. Very specific, ‘this’. But even though I did not elaborate, he knew I meant the mind-link.   

“Something I had wished to avoid.”, he answered. It went against all reason that those words should hurt. But hurt they did, and I was at a loss to figure out why. I felt slighted. In the wake of my wounded pride, I couldn’t allow him to see the insult I took, so I snatched back my hand, folding it into my lap.

“That… came out wrong. I had not intended to drag you into this… mess.”, he murmured ruefully. “Nobody should have to share minds with me. Especially not you.” I could make no sense of what he said. What did that even mean? He’d phrased it in such an ambiguous way. I chanced a glance at him and saw that he had averted his eyes to the distance, not looking at me. It was the first time I witnessed Solas being unable to meet my gaze.

“You do not have a malicious bone in your body.”, he suddenly said. “I wonder if you have ever experienced hatred, or even true disappointment. Do not look too far into that link, Ren, or you will be in danger of learning those things much too quickly.” This push-and-pull behaviour of his confused and nettled me. I could not understand it. He called me by a private, almost intimate name, but warned me about keeping my distance in the same breath. When I moved to remark this, Solas rose fluently.

“I do not think it wise for you to be living in the courtyard housing. Until this…”, he paused for an instant. “…Problem is resolved, I’d like to quarter you in the Spire. There is a room below this one that I do not much use. I will have it readied for you by noon.” I opened my mouth to object – although Maker knows I had no reasonable argument against his proposition. Except maybe the fact that I would be sleeping mere feet below him, and that twisted my insides into knots. I swallowed back the objection and nodded once.

He stood in the middle of the room, still only dressed in linen pants and that open robe that left him bare-chested. Impossible to distract myself from that view, the rising light of dawn now flooding the room. He somehow managed to command the entire attention in a room with no trace of intending to. There was this sheer gravity around him that drew the eyes.

Involuntarily, I thought about the kiss we had shared in the dream, about the taste of his tongue on mine. Spicy, aromatic… Like a bite from delicious gingerbread, still warm. What would it feel like to have it travel down my throat, to the valley of my breasts, while those nimble hands worked their magic on my naked skin? Something tightened in my stomach and heat rushed to places it should definitely not go –

“Arlenna? Are you listening, fox girl?” Damn, damn, damn! Don’t drift off into such ribald fantasies, ever, you silly – I jerked my head and tried to remember what he had said, but drew a complete blank on it. Act natural, I commanded myself and began to fuss over my hair in the most nonchalant way I could think of. Surely it looked ridiculous.

“Sure, whatever. I mean – Yes, I can live here in the Spire. For a while. Anyway…” I kept babbling on, ignoring the nick between his brows. “So, did you find anything in the Fade about the attack?” Diversion, very good idea.

“I asked what you want brought up from your room. I take ‘Sure, whatever.” to mean ‘Everything’.”, Solas drawled, regarding me as one would regard a lunatic. “And no… Whoever it was, they took great care to cover their tracks, magical and otherwise.” That did not bode well. Having no clue where to start searching for the would-be assassin made things even bleaker than they already were.

“So you don’t know who could have been behind it?” A distressed ring hat entered my voice. He always had the answers. He had to have one for this too.

“I have… a feeling.”, he began, and then fell silent for a long moment. “But… No, that is impossible.” It seemed like he was talking more to himself than me. Shortly after that, Solas left to speak with his followers and inform them about my new living arrangements. I stayed in his bedroom, alone, wondering what the hell I was trying to do here. Nothing stopped me from fleeing. No barriers or other obstructions kept me confined anymore.

One thing to be abducted and then forcibly taught about your strange abilities, but now I feared I’d gotten myself caught up in a much more dangerous game. Whoever had cast that hideous curse on Solas was not just a menace to him, but to every soul he sheltered in Var’Thenerasan, and possibly even beyond that. A snake ready to strike from the shadows and leave behind no clue it had been there at all.

I realized something then: The only person who could be ruled out as a culprit with absolute certainty was me – I had been inside the barrier. I could never have cast the spell. Solas knew that. He trusted none of his followers right now. But he trusted me.

I buried my face in my hands and let out a long, drawn-out sigh. The deep-rooted loneliness I had felt in him yesterday had been real. A vast plane of old sorrow, each blade of grass on it a year he’d been on his own. _I need your help_. The aversion in having to utter such a plea had crystallized so clearly in his thought. How long has it been, since he’d last asked someone for aid?

Maker, did I really contemplate staying to help him? I could be on my way home, far away from the dangers he posed to me. Not just the curse and the possibility that I’d suffer collateral damage from it. But also the nagging, persistent… feelings about him that had taken up permanent residence in me against my better judgement.

_I could really use your counsel right now, Mum._ , I thought bitterly. Over a month had passed since my abduction, yet still I missed my parents so desperately. Were they alright? What would they have done in my stead? Would they turn their backs on someone who needed their help, letting injustice rule?

_Those in need should always be our concern, Ari. To let them suffer when we can do something against it is tantamount to a crime of omission. We cannot help them all, but turn a blind eye too often and you will become less, diminish. Protection, and empathy. Those are the true virtues of the just._

My father’s words… I had not understood them back then. Now I did. And I knew that they would have done in my situation. And I also knew that my decision had already been made. Not much my rationality could salvage from it now. I was merely trying to justify it to myself.

I spent a greater part of the day waiting for the room below to be readied while I paced around, occasionally picking up a book without much interest. Many of the ones that piled around Solas’ reading chair were elven tomes, of course undecipherable to me. But the illustrations were quite amazing. I found several ones of Solas that had to be ancient. He was always depicted wearing a wolf hood with six eyes, his face obscured. The beast he’d been turned into bore the same characteristics. Strange, how much power legends could gain. The Dalish had believed the Dread Wolf to be a master of deception and trickery. If the curse spread, the whole world might come to know him as something entirely else… It worried me.

“So, you have made it into the Spire, little harellan.” I whirled around in the chair to find Linala standing in the doorway, her piercing blue eyes full of disdain. Over the last weeks, most residents had at least made an effort to keep their opinions about me from openly showing on their faces. Not so Linala. She despised me and made no pretences of hiding it. Hypocrite. Pretending to be loyal but insulting me every time Solas turned his back. I had never breached the subject of her cruelty to him, maybe because I was too proud to do so, and the issue seemed so petty. As always, his sovereign advisor was impeccably dressed and groomed, yet deep shadows pooled beneath her icy eyes, as though she hadn’t slept in days. I felt no pity and hoped viciously that she’d been up all night fixing the damage caused by the Sphere of Mythal’s disruption.

“What do you want?” I made no attempt to sound the least bit polite. We needn’t pretend to get along when no one else was around. I could be as petulant as I’d liked to.

“What did you do to gain such favour, I wonder? Spread your legs, maybe?”, Linala asked. The nastiness in her voice made my stomach churn with bile.

“You conceited bitch, how dare you-“ I’d had enough. Rage reddened the edges of my vision and I started towards her without thinking. Chilling menace glinted in her stare, of such extent that it made me stop short. She was surely no apprentice in using the bow strapped to her back, and if I went on a rampage in this confined space, I might do more damage to myself than her. Oh, but how I yearned to scratch the smug look from her face. Solas would revise that statement about me having no malicious bone in my body right now.

“Cat got your tongue? You know, they say that back in Elvhenan, he had no shortage of females catering to his every need. Don’t flatter yourself, chit. You are not the first one to fall prey to his deceptions.” She gave me a sardonic sneer.

“You’d do well to remember, each and every day, that his only true allegiance is to himself.” Linala turned to leave after those spiteful words, adding only one last thing. “Your room is ready.” The fury inside me blazed out of control, and for several minutes I just stood there, fuming, trying to bring my thoughts into order.         

The nerve of that vindictive woman… Strange, though. Until now, I had thought that she was jealous of the attention I got from Solas, of the special treatment. That there was more to her dogged loyalty and her shadowing his every step, maybe some hidden affection… But today, she had sounded just as derisive towards him as to me. Well, likely more things went down in this place behind my back than I could ever fathom. And hell has no fury like a woman scorned… My rambling came to an abrupt halt when I entered the newly assigned quarters. Vin greeted me with an even greater bounciness than usually. In a bout of sudden affection, I went and hugged him. He blushed to the roots if his hair, making the ashen fuzz stand in stark contrast to the scarlet berry that was his face.

“I haven’t seen you in so long! Where have you been?”, I asked, my spirits lifting considerably. Vin somehow always managed to put me in a good mood. He was the only person here who acted genuinely nice to me. Well, except for Wolf…

“I was sent to do an important errand for mirthadra, to the big city!” Starkhaven, that is. Over my stay, I had caught a very general, vague idea where we were. Starkhaven was to the south, so we had to be somewhere between the city and the Green Dales, in the thick woods encircled by the arms of the Minanter River. Still miles over miles away from Kirkwall… I looked around the room and had to admit that they had done a beautiful job at preparing it. Resourceful and efficient, these elves. They’d brought up my bed and furnished the place with a proper desk and chairs, a small table for meals, and several colourful tapestries with elaborate floral motives.

“And here it is!”, Vin exclaimed all of a sudden, stepping aside dramatically. He pulled a sheet of linen off an inconspicuous piece of furniture –

I let out a cry when the cottage piano was revealed beneath. Impossible. I couldn’t believe it! The instrument was much smaller than the one I had at home, yet still beautiful craftsmanship. Made from cherry wood, the front inlaid with small mother-of-pearl ornaments. I ambled towards it like a sleep-walker. Vin just stood aside, beaming so brightly as if he’d swallowed the sun. There were music sheets in the holder, and without much hesitation I sat down on the padded stool.

“You didn’t steal it, did you?”, I flashed the boy a wide grin, unable to curb my excitement. I’d played often in my dreams, but didn’t think I’d get a chance at the real thing for a long, long time.

“Of course not! I bought it with real money, off an odd shem trader in the rich people district. Told him I was a page for a noble lady. That’s not even a lie! I bet he still can’t sleep and fears I made firewood out of it.” I had to laugh at that. The pull of the keys captivated me then and I filed through the sheets until I found something fitting. As a sign of my thanks, I played a few short, whimsical pieces for Vin. He listened with an avid curiosity, eyes chasing my fingers on the keys. After a while, I turned to him.

“Thank you. Getting this must have been an ordeal… It means a lot to me.” The praise inflated him until he looked ready to float off the ground.

“I’m glad I could help, Lady. But you should thank mirthadra. He was the one who gave me money and sent me to buy it. And now we might at least have some music around here. “ I frowned.

“Didn’t you have any before?” Vin shrugged and shook his head.

“There always used to be music at my house. I’d play the piano, Da would hum while working, my mother would sing and play the lute. Sometimes, when I was sick or sad, she’d shoo Cook from the kitchen and make plum dumplings for me. She’d sing this one little tune…”, I trailed away and struck up the short melody on the piano. “It made me laugh so much that I forgot my worries, every time.”

“Do you miss home?”, Vin asked, his thin, boyish face solemn. I nodded, not quite trusting my voice then.

“You know, when I arrived here, I found out a big secret. _Mirthadra_ sings too.”, he whispered in a conspirative tone. I cast him a doubtful look. Solas, singing? That didn’t sound right. But Vin bobbed his head heartily. “Not often. But sometimes I bring up his breakfast and hear his voice outside the door. Pretty elven songs, but… sad, too. One day, I recognized one. My Ma used to sing it to me when I couldn’t sleep, at the alienage. She was Dalish, you know, but her clan exiled her.”, he stopped short for a moment, expression turning grave. I wondered where his mother was now, but didn’t wish to interrupt his story.

“So I plucked up my courage and asked him how he knew that song. ‘An old fiend taught it to me. She knew so many. Her spirit was always singing. How I do miss her voice sometimes.’, he said.”  I lowered my gaze to the piano keys, unable to face my young friend. There was only one person Solas could have meant by that. Not for the first time, I contemplated how their friendship could have gone so awry. It had to be a big thing to open such a monumental rift between them. Maybe he was finally ready to divulge the true reasons to me. I’d deserved them from the beginning, but even more so now.

A few uneventful days passed in which I got settled into the new circumstances. Although I could have strolled around Var’Thenerasan freely now, I chose not to do so, or at least not overly much. Chances of running into the Queen Witch Linala were too high – and the other residents were still thoroughly suspicious of me. Solas took up teaching me again after a day of investigation that had brought no new insight into the strange attack or the curse. To hide the marks on his left hand from his followers, he’d cast a permanent illusion spell around it, which had made the glyphs disappear completely.

I made a very awkward but still earnest show of gratitude about acquiring the piano for me, to which he remarked modestly that it was intended as a belated birthday gift. After robbing me of freedom and the opportunity to celebrate a real twentieth birthday, it was the least he could have done, he added. I smirked at that – it was after all quite true.

Even so, he would often stay behind after the lessons and politely request me to play a few pieces while he sat and listened. It struck me as a little odd. I knew he didn’t really have time for such inconsequential revelry – he had many important things to tend to. It wasn’t until a week after the wolf incident that I came to have a nagging suspicion… Could it be that Solas lingered to spend time with me?

It was late afternoon and the heavy scent of summer’s end carried over on the light breeze coming through the windows. We had gone through theory and exercises about mind warding, putting up protective barriers to shutter one’s thoughts against intruders from the Fade. Afterwards, precise like clockwork, he had asked me to play the piano.

I had finished the quiet, lengthy sonata, expecting him to voice some preference for the next one. When I turned my head though, a surprising sight made me stop short. Wolf lounged on my reading chair, head leaned sideways into one hand, eyelids closed, his whole stance utterly relaxed. Dozing. I swallowed compulsively, knitting my hands into my lap, unsure what to do.

Very cautiously, I tiptoed along the link between us and found that he did not dream. He was actually sleeping. Resting his mind. Did hearing me play somehow put him at ease, allow him to let his guard down? He looked so young… Not much older than me, like this. Without the austerity, the eyes full of ancient cunning, Solas seemed much less burdened.

I knew a sudden, unexpected shower of… joy. For the first time since my abduction, I felt happy. I must be going insane. The irony that the reason for my happiness should be the person who had caused my misery – it was almost poetic. But it also scared the living hell out of me. I wasn’t stupid. I knew very well that I was playing with fire, and as sure as autumn follows summer, I would be the one to get burned.

Pushing down feelings, playing deceptive games… those things had never been in my nature. I had never needed to employ them. That would come around to bite me in the ass now, I pondered ruefully. Because I liked watching Solas sleep in my reading chair, his face void of all tension. I liked it to such extent, I could have just sat here, quietly, and not tired of it. Maybe not ever. And that knowledge shamed me so much that I turned to denial.

In a sudden fit of self-sabotage – or self-preservation, who knew – I cleared my throat. As expected, Solas awoke from that subtle sound without so much as a twitch, his eyes scanning the room once before focusing on me. His expression was baffled, likely at himself.

“I must have…”, he began, but I went on for him.

“Fallen asleep, yes.” Straightening in the chair, he moved to rise, maybe just a tiny bit more slowly than usual.

“I should leave you in peace for today, I delayed for too long already-“

“Wolf.”, I interrupted again. I’d never called him that before. Well, I had called him Dread Wolf, as an insult. This felt like something very different though, and he sensed that. An intense, inscrutable emotion chased across his face as his perceptive eyes jumped to mine. He didn’t speak. I wondered if I’d stunned him or if he was waiting what I would say next.

“It’s alright, you know. I don’t mind.”, I blurted out, then backpaddled by giving a little cough. “In any case… I wanted to ask you something.” Now was as good a time as any, with him being all serene and unguarded. Solas turned his full attention to me. That pervasive scrutiny would never stop being a bit disconcerting.

“Why do my parents… resent you?”, I managed to ask breathlessly. Had I just caught trepidation in his gaze before he averted it? Was he ashamed…? If so… Why?

“Resentment… Such a dampened word. Scorn, contempt is more fitting for what they feel, I assume.”

In the silence that followed, I truly began to doubt that. Mum could have shot at his heart on the day he came for me. She could have been more merciless, gone for the kill. And the dream, or rather memory I had a while ago, about my parents arguing… _You still have hope that he will change_. I knew my mother. She would be one to hope, would believe that there is something decent to be found in… well practically anyone. On some very deep, innate level, she had trusted Solas to protect me from harm – even as he took me away from them without their permission.

“I think you are wrong.”, I said into the quiet. “And you haven’t answered my question.” Solas sighed heavily.

“Believe me, in this particular case, I would really prefer to be wrong. And… I’m sorry. It is not the right time to answer you just yet.” My temper flared. He brushed me off again, just like a month ago when I had arrived here as a stranger. Still not to be trusted with the important things.

“Well you better fess up soon, because I am getting tired of this charade. Whatever it is, it has something to do with your ‘plans’. I’m right, ain’t I?” I stood and began pacing the room in an agitated manner. When angry, I’d never been able to keep still. I caught a distinct flash of anxiety in Solas’ expression from the corner of my eye, and I think it hit home to him then that I was more insightful than probably good for me.

“I promise, I will tell you the truth. But not yet – I…”, he stopped speaking mid-sentence. I sensed a disturbance in him through our link, a strange confusion, jumbled thoughts. Lost for words? That never happened. The next moment he’d shuttered himself from me, summoning that infuriating, tranquil mask to his face.

_“Ir abelas, Ren.”_ The words were only a whisper. Then Wolf bowed hastily and strode from my room, closing the door near soundlessly.

“I deserve to know!”, I yelled after him, certain that he would hear.

After fuming all through the rest of the day, I had resolved by evening to be so annoying and irritable that my behaviour would badger Solas into telling me that goddamn secret. Oh, and I would stop fantasizing about him, the kiss, his hands and most definitely his tongue. Or enjoy watching him sleep. Or thinking fuzzy thoughts when he smiled. I would be cool as a glacier lake and pricklier than the meanest thistle. If he thought I was stubborn until now, he would be in for a surprise. I would solve that mystery by sheer dogged determination – my father would have been so proud. As I went to bed, I had honestly convinced myself of having thought up the perfect plan.

Until that fateful night came, and I woke up in bedlam.


	9. IX. Intermission - Varric

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short Intermission from Varric's POV. I realize I gave an evil, teasing end to the last chapter, so I will be uploading 2 now (since this isn't quite a chapter). I wrote this to describe how the family is dealing with Arlenna's disappearance, and personally think it gives a nice contrast to the relatively secluded Arlenna x Solas parts. You can see what is going on while the two... well, deal with each other in their very different ways.

###  **IX. Intermission - _Varric_**

“No change?”, I asked surreptitiously as Curly and the Seeker exited the solar, their faces dead serious. Divine, not Seeker. Quarter of a century and I still hadn’t gotten used to that name. I doubted I ever would. It did not fit her, simple as that. Just like that ridiculous priestess hat she always fussed over. She took it off now, ruffling her hair, while Cullen shook his head and sat down on a wide armchair by the mantlepiece.

No fire burned inside, since even Kirkwall enjoyed mild weather at this time of the year. He hadn’t even bothered to let the maids light the chandeliers, and so Dorian and Leliana were quietly conversing in a shadowed corner, candlelight flickering over their faces. The three of them, including Cassandra, had arrived only recently, whereas I had been involved since day one of Arlenna’s kidnapping. I remembered the messenger at my door in the middle of the night and knew a rising anger that made me want to play target-practice with Solas’ head, the bastard.

Arlenna was like a daughter to me, and I’d always taken great pride in being her godfather. I’d known her since the day she was born. Watched her smudge and grass-stain her pretty dresses while chasing butterflies in the garden. Seen the utter joy on her face whenever I brought her a gift, tiny or big. Little Chick… I hope you are up for the challenge that lunatic’s twisted mind has in store for you.

I cast a careful glance at Cullen, who now read through reports from the search parties we’d sent out weeks ago. He studied each of them over and over, obsessively. None had news. Arlenna had vanished from the face of the earth. I hadn’t thought it possible that a person could age in such a short time. But Cullen had. More lines on his face, more streaks of silver in his hair – both things that had once made women sigh and gawk at him by the dozens.

He looked wilted now, a permanent frown of worry on his brow, expression stony. I sympathized with him, more than he knew. Shit. The world crumbled around him, yet still he managed to stay more solid than an adamantine boulder. His daughter, his flesh and blood was missing, and Maker knew what dangers she faced right now. And his wife… Shenlira hadn’t been the same since the incident. She ate less than a small bird, spoke only in taciturn, two-word sentences, spending hours and hours just staring into the distance.

And then I would watch her erupt in a frightening fury, yelling at Cullen to send out more missives, more people, there had to be something, someone who’d seen them, anywhere. No pretty sight, to see two people I held so dear fight. I hated what this did to her, to them both. Besides, the shrapnel from their arguing could sting pretty badly.

“How is she?”, I asked quietly. Cullen rubbed his eyes in an exhausted way.

“Devastated. The… the healers and the Revered Mother say that her spirit is drowning in sadness. If this state continues, she will fall ill. You know the Anchor has left her weakened.”

“Another thing we have Delusions-Of-Grandeur Chuckles to thank for. When I get my hands on that roach…”, I said with little care to how savage I sounded. Well, I was in good company here.

“Get in line.”, Cullen commanded grimly. “If I find one little scar on my daughter, even a broken fingernail…” Yeah, if he did, Solas would be in for a world of hurt. Powers of a god, my ass. One man. Sure, he had followers. But I doubted he knew what he would provoke by ripping a piece of us out of our midst. That we would come together again, after twenty-five years, united in purpose to take him down. He might be a wannabe god, but here were some of the brightest, toughest, shrewdest mortals of their generation. The Inquisitor, the Lion of the South, the Divine, the Nightingale, Yours Truly… and, well, Sparkler. At least he’d alerted the Bull, who then had alerted the Chargers, and so on.

“As soon as my son gets back from Cumberland, I will have to leave her here to ride for Starkhaven. There is a royal summit scheduled for August. Sebastian and Alistair will both be there…”, Cullen trailed away with a sigh. Cassandra lowered regally onto the plush sofa beside me and I threw her a sarcastic smirk. She frowned, before turning to Cullen.

“You should not leave Shen, even if Cassian is here to care for her. She is not well.”, the Seeker stated. His face contorted painfully for an instant. He didn’t want to leave, but what could he do?

“You really went all the way to the top, didn’t you?”, I tried to distract him.

“I would go to the Maker’s Throne for help, if I knew how.”, Cullen confessed helplessly.

“There is no need for that, old friend. Stay here. I have received an invitation to that summit too, you know. I had not intended to go, but the situation has changed now. One of the great advantages of being the Divine, my opinion is sought pretty much everywhere.” Cassandra gave an annoyed sort of huff.

“Thank you, Sandra.”, Cullen’s face lit up with gratitude. “But I shall still escort you as far as the mountain border. I have some scouts there who haven’t reported from their last search yet.”

Dorian and Leliana, finished with their talk, joined us then and we all sat in the dim light of the candelabra, exchanging information we had gathered. Just like old times, although I had missed the disasters about as much as a hole in the head. It couldn’t be helped.

“What does Solas want with Arlenna? What’s his agenda?”, Dorian queried at some point. That guy must have drunk the fountain of youth empty. Despite being a shameless ‘bon vivant’, as the Orleisians called it, he’d managed to stay slick and irritatingly… sparkling even though he drank more than his Qunari lover at times. How did he manage that? Well, maybe age _is_ a state of mind.

“I have not told you this…” Cullen avoided our eyes, head bowed in shame for a long moment. “Before Arlenna was born… When was it? In Lira’s sixth month with child, I think. I woke up in the middle of this mild spring night… And she wasn’t with me. I heard her voice in the garden, and found her there… Cassian in her arms – he was barely four. Solas had come through the Eluvian in the hedge maze to pay us a visit. He said that Arlenna would be born an elf. And a mage of prodigal skill. He asked… Well, more informed us that he would train her, whether we wanted him to or not. His visit was a warning that he would come for her, one day.”

“Somehow I doubt that is even half the truth. Why would he bother?” I’d spoken carelessly and cleared my throat to amend it. “What I mean is, there are several promising mages in the world. Why Arlenna? It just seems so risky, for a man who never does anything without considering the exact consequences.”

“Why would you even keep that Eluvian in the first place? You knew he had gained control of the network!”, Dorian chimed in, peturbed.

“We had it examined by Morrigan. She said it was inactive and would remain so forever, likely broken, in the magical sense. She assured us. Many of them are simply ancient mirrors now. He gained control of the active ones, but… I just did not think that he would find a way to reactivate the others. Lira did not want to destroy a priceless elvhen artefact. For years after his warning, we kept permanent guards around the mirror. We thought it would be best if we were the first to know if it activated again.”, Cullen explained.

“Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. I get it. But when he took Ari, he didn’t even travel through that thing to get here, right?”, I pondered.

“No. I think he arrived on foot, or used another Eluvian somewhere else. He definitely knew that invading our home from there was risky. He used it to escape, though. But he already had Ari then…”

“We are getting off-topic.”, Dorian interrupted our ruminations. “We still have no idea why he abducted Arlenna, of all people.”  

“It must have something to do with his plan to tear down the Veil. I’d thought, by now, he would have given it up as a lost cause…You don’t think… that he needs some sort of sacrifice?” Leliana looked grim.

“No, I… don’t think so. Blood magic dampens one’s connection to the Fade. He told me this once, after… Wait.”, Cullen stopped short, thinking. “Remember Orianna?” Everyone nodded. Of course we remembered Shenlira’s insane half-sister. A maleficar who had made our lives hell for a good while back in Inquisition times. The woman had bonded with a demon of Jealousy, in a way none of us had ever seen before. It had been a bit similar to the case of Anders, but even more terrifying. The demon had fed off her life-force, her contempt and bitterness for years.

“Then you remember what Solas said after we’d defeated Jealousy. Orianna’s bond with the demon was so strong that it enabled her to walk the Fade consciously in her dreams, even influence others, and despite the fact that she practiced blood magic so extensively.”, Cullen went on.

“You think he lied.” It was more a statement than a question. Chuckles had lied his bald head off, right into our faces.

“A lie of omission, in a way. What if it was not just Jealousy, but some… special ability that made Orianna such an exceptional mage? I have never seen anyone do the things she’d done. Survive a parasite creature for so long… Inflict excruciating pain in dreams…”

“It was indeed unusual.”, Dorian threw in. “So let us assume that Arlenna is in some way… special, has some unique talent.”

“Of course she is special.”, Cullen sounded as though he’d received some mortal insult.

“I do apologize, Papa Lion. You know exactly that is not what I meant. Every father thinks his child is exceptional. Oh, these finger paintings are marvellous, you will be the next _Maratino_! This is your best work yet!”, Dorian pointed out sardonically. We had all heard the lion speak to his children in exactly the same tone of voice.

“Don’t be cute with me, Tevinter. I can’t abide your cuteness right now.”, the other man growled, and we couldn’t help it. We laughed. No matter how dire the situation was, we were here to help him, and Shenlira, through it. That is just what friends do. And ours was a friendship built for life. We would never leave them to face this alone.   

“Mar’Alenna, Orianna and now Ari… Strong magic seems to run in my wife’s bloodlines.”

“Strong and dangerous.”, Cassandra remarked and our little company agreed solemnly.

I puzzled over the strange goings-on while they talked some more. Since we weren’t neck-deep in demons yet, Solas seemed unable to tear down the Veil on his own. Then he takes an unharrowed, young mage from a line of unusual prodigies. I knew little about the complexities of magic, but this whole thing reeked like fish left to rot in the midday sun. I suddenly remembered my one and only visit to Orzammar. I had no idea why this memory popped into my head. The great archives there... A stone relief on the wall, depicting the first meeting between dwarves and the ancient elves. Some great leader receiving a gift from a pair of long-limbed, serious figures. What had been the ugly thing’s title…? Gorreck Accepts the Sphere of Whatnot from Whatsherface and her… I drew a blank. Damn it, I couldn’t remember. Had the last word been apprentice? Something like that.

But it didn’t matter anyway. I pushed the thought from my mind, yet for reasons unknown it kept coming back to me, nagging and persistent. My instincts whispered that this was important. I felt inclined to listen, for instinct and a good memory were the two traits that allowed me to put mysteries together and see the bigger picture behind it all. They were the source of what people called ‘my inherent cleverness’. And Chuckles’ plans for Arlenna would definitely fit into a bigger picture. I rose quite abruptly.

“Excuse me, I have to write an urgent letter.” Everyone looked at me, baffled, but I was already on my way out. By Andraste’s tits, I would get to the bottom of this. Even if it meant dealing with my god-awful fourth cousin in a city I deeply despised. I just hoped he hadn’t drunk himself to death by now.


	10. X. Crimes of Passion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so I am very self-conscious about writing intimate scenes. I never get very explicit, maybe because I have a colorful imagination (that fills in the blanks) or I'm just a chicken >.< I don't know, especially the first love scene in my stories is rather embellished than direct. I still think it turned out alright. 
> 
> The flavor text here is from the weirdly named song _Blind Pig by Emmi_. I honestly don't know what that title is about, but the song is _really_ nice and those lyrics fit so perfectly into this chapter. While writing this, I also listened _a lot_ to _Dr. Ford and the Main Title Theme from the Westworld Soundtrack_.

###  **X. Crimes of Passion**

_Yes love, love has set the beast astir_   
_The dangerous and the meek concur:_   
_It’s ruffled feathers, fleece and fur_   
_‘Cause love drives all of us wild._

* * *

 

 

I was jolted from sleep by an ugly noise. The ear-straining sound of a sharp object scraping across stone, over and over again. It was accompanied by muffled crashes, the ripping of fabric and… growls. The unnerving dissonance came from upstairs. My heart jumped into a frantic race even as I rose with the hazy disorientation that was normal after being awakened in the middle of the night. I already Fade-walked most of my nights, and it seemed on one of the few where I didn’t, another thing entirely kept me from a restful sleep. Damn it! If that ruckus is what I think it is… I distractedly grabbed a dressing gown and ambled up the spiral staircase to Solas’ bedroom. Well, my resolution to be less agreeable had gone to hell in less than a day. Good job.

“Solas?”, I called softly through the closed door. I wouldn’t enter without some form of permission. Last week had been different. He’d brought me to his room because I’d been weakened and unconscious. For some nonsensical reason, going in on my own seemed… intimate. I shooed that thought away. Begone! From the room beyond, more scratching sounds, but otherwise no answer. I tried again twice, louder this time, before I reached for the handle and inwardly cursed at the anxious knot in my throat. Futile, for the door was locked. I could sense his aura on the other side… All wrong again. Tangled, confused, savage. I was pretty sure what I would find when I managed to open it. Rattling the handle did nothing and so I bent to the keyhole for closer examination. Maybe I should try out lockpicking. Uncle Varric had taught me a few tricks, much to my parents’ aggravation. But thankfully I didn’t need do employ roguish skills. In the darkness, I hadn’t seen, but there was a key in the lock. What the…? The door had been locked… from the outside? Had he done that?

“I’m coming in now.”, I stated with much more bravado than I felt. Wolf had not attacked me the last time, but… those noises did not sound peaceful. Not at all. The lock clicked and I pushed open the door to find… chaos. He’d transformed again alright. Shards of moonlight illuminated him as he stood before one of his murals, jet-black fur bristling. Ghostly green eyes fixated on me, all six of them. I took in the bedroom with one swift glance. Claw marks defaced the beautiful paintings, torn up tomes littered the floor next to an eviscerated pillow. He’d snapped a chair between his jaws. Its sad splinters lay strewn around the place. At least he’d left the bed alone. Maker’s floppy balls… It was bedlam. Solas – or rather the Dread Wolf – watched me warily, teeth bared.

“It’s me. It’s alright, it’s just me. Ren. Fox.” I didn’t know why I spoke to him like to an idiot. But I made my voice as gentle as I could while my pulse throbbed up to my eardrums. Not an idiot, I corrected myself. A wild animal. Without warning he lunged forward, issuing a sound that made the blood freeze in my veins. I stumbled back, tripped over some clutter and landed painfully on my behind. The next I knew, he was so close that I could feel the heat from that giant body, even see each individual fang glisten like oiled blades.

“This isn’t you. You are a man, not a beast –“ The menacing snarl made me stop. I didn’t dare to touch him as I had done before, to grasp our link so I could show him. He turned abruptly as though something had physically struck him. The giant jaws snapped together and his head whipped from side to side. I sensed the terrible conflict inside him and my heart crumbled, because I didn’t know what to do. I was so useless, damn it all!

With a sudden jerk he tore himself away and began clawing the murals, driving his large head against the stone, battering the walls with his massive body so violently that I felt the whole tower shake.

“No!”, I cried, now afraid that he would seriously injure himself. “Stop! Solas, stop!” Something in my voice must have reached him. For an instant, he went utterly still. I would later marvel at my brazen act. But I flew at him and threw my arms around his neck as tightly as I could. Pushed my hands into the thick black fur, through the sleek overcoat and the rigid guard hairs, down to the very skin. I even buried my face into it. His scent was intense and wild, and just a little like his real self beneath.

“This isn’t you. Look here. Look at these.”, I mumbled senselessly, repeating myself a dozen times. I sent images to him, whichever came to my mind. The first time I’d seen his face revealed, in the clearing where he destroyed the Eluvian. During our lessons when he frowned at my rashness, shaking his head in that distinct, rebuking fashion. Or looked pleased when I had made progress. The way he’d gazed at me, just a few heartbeats before we had kissed. Focused and passionate. Him sleeping in my reading chair. Peaceful, unburdened. No, wait – I hadn’t meant to think of those, but now it was too late. I couldn’t take them back.

But Wolf… quieted inside. The mindless, violent… thing that held him captive stopped flailing as he observed what I showed him. I knew the exact moment he wrestled control out of the beast’s jaws, but I will never be able to rightly describe what he did then. He somehow muzzled the evil creature, made it immobile and closeted it behind a very sturdy door. As soon as he’d done that, his body and spirit… reformed to their natural states.

It was beautiful magic, wondrous to behold. Creating, not destroying. I had no notion how long it took. Could have been a minute, or an hour. I only knew when my arms were not embracing a wolf anymore, but a man instead. Muscles tensed and relaxed beneath warm skin. Not just warm. Heated, almost feverish. An arm wrapped around my waist, not to separate but to pull near. My face nestled against the hollow of his throat and I felt it ripple with a swallow. I should move. I really should. But instead I shamelessly pretended to be in shock while my heart thundered so fiercely that I was certain he could hear it. Fingertips fluttered over my cheek, lighter than gossamer. I dared to take one shallow breath.

“Those were fine images, Ren.” That soothing vibration of his voice as it built in his chest made me think of lying in a quiet pond, the water lapping over me gently. It sounded a bit hoarse though, grittier than usual.

“They were. You’re welcome.”, I managed to say. It came out all squeaky in the beginning, feeble at the end. Great. My mind did not seem to work too well. It was utterly blank.

“Then why are you crying?” I… what? I wasn’t… I argued frantically between ‘None of your business’ and ‘Because of reasons!’ as an answer, but never came to give one. His fingers brushed away the moisture from my cheek, and then he turned me just a little… I didn’t know where to look, sure that if I met his eyes then, I would somehow disintegrate. My lids fluttered shut just when his lips pressed to the place where my tears had gone their way without me noticing.

How could a gesture manage to be filled equally with reassurance and longing? I sighed as though some great weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Solas seemed to understand this as an assent, for he continued his journey undeterred until his mouth covered mine in a kiss I would not forget any time soon. People say you should never overindulge in a good thing, since it devalues the joy you feel. That’s just rubbish. I might not have much experience to back this up, but I’ll go out on a limb here and say those wise guys had never been properly kissed before.

I knew the same giddy rush of sheer bliss as the first time. I had just not acknowledged it to myself. I’d been afraid and confused. To hell with it. A playful tongue flicked over the seam of my lips, beguiling me to let it in, open, soften. As soon as I did, his embrace tightened and drew me even closer to the steely firmness of his body. The kiss became a wicked game, a chase, and then… a hunger for more. I noticed the changes in our link, but what he did to me made me light-headed, too dizzy to pay attention.

I just… let it all happen. Revelled in the sensation of his hands as they slid into my hair to grasp it by the palmfuls, or travelled up my leg, yanking the fabric of the nightgown away in the process. Did I imagine that they trembled? No, that had to be me. I shivered all over with tiny chills that had nothing to do with cold. What do I do? I had no idea –

_Whatever you want to do_ , some inner voice whispered.

So I simply let my head fall back and touched his face, traced both the defined angles and the softer lines. For a man with such sharp contours, he was remarkably smooth. I explored the texture, only realizing that he was completely naked when I arrived at his bare chest. Right. The inconvenient side-effect. I felt something stir inside him at my untried touch, a feeling that had lain dormant for so long he puzzled over placing it. It had reared its head before, sniffing the air hopefully. But he had quelled it. Not anymore, though.

My body tilted suddenly and I was laid down to the ground with great care. The broken items from his rampage scattered away like leaves in the wind and I felt the supple threads of a rug through the thin gauze that covered my back. It was warm, pleasant. All his doing, I knew from the casual flow of magic that emanated from him. He didn’t seem inclined to ever break his touch, sever the connection between us. So many things happened at once that I struggled to follow each individual one. His lips descended to my throat and left a burning trail as they went lower, lower… How had my gown unbuttoned itself? I had no chance to wonder, because a decisive hand slid between the folds, closing around one tender breast. He didn’t stop there. His tongue flitted across the hardened tip and I could not hold back the strange sound that rose from someplace very deep, primal. I had never uttered such a noise before. However, my excitement emboldened him even more.

“You are so beautiful… even in my dreams.” Wait, what? He thought this was a dream? I suddenly realized why he’d let himself become so untethered. In a dream of his own, all of this had no consequences. But if I told him the truth, he’d stop. No, no – As if I could have spoken anyway. No coherent words would come out. The rush of his breath on my skin felt like the lick of a wonderful flame, heated by desire. I wanted, _needed_ to know where this ended. I didn’t think I could bear it if he stopped now.

My gown was pushed relentlessly aside as his fingers wandered along the inside of my thigh. It tingled like a spell, tiny currents that only added kindling to the fire that centred at the junction of my legs. That secret place seemed to be the ultimate goal of his journey. He quested into the downy triangle and onward, until he found the most exquisite spot yet, wet and smooth and so wicked. I was both ashamed and utterly aroused. Where had it come from? I wasn’t exactly clueless, but I’d thought someone would explain this to me when the time came. Solas didn’t. I doubted he would have been able to. At some point, one of his fingers slipped even lower and… inside me. Oh Maker above. He let out a pained sort of groan, so utterly male that I felt every muscle tighten at the sound of it.

He continued the sweet, sweet torture, until I thought I would simply shatter beneath that exquisite pleasure. I had no name for the feeling. It was a rising tide, the most sensual dance imaginable, a tornado that simply swept away all in its path. Our link flared with a wild array of images, too quickly to grasp their full meaning. He lost control, unable to temper them anymore. The nimble hand between my legs disappeared, only to be replaced by something quite hard and… silky, but much larger. I had a very good idea what it was, but… How was that supposed to even –

“I will go to hell for even dreaming about this.”, he gasped, interrupting my frantic thoughts. This was definitely the point where I should have told him the truth. Until now, I hadn’t dared to look at him, afraid that he’d see, that the magic would be broken, the spell shattered. I wanted… I didn’t know what I wanted. Something. Unison, comfort… Release.

Through lowered lashes, I chanced a peek at him. Face taut with concentration, eyes tightly shut, jaw rigid. Never more splendid than at that moment. The muscles in his shoulders worked as he leaned over me, the pale moonlit skin straining with tension. And a relentless pressure nudged at my centre, forging its way into uncharted land, into a virginal tightness much too narrow for such an invasion. Damnation, it hurt, although the scraps of thought that carried over to me dulled it somewhat. They weren’t very specific, but so wonderfully natural. At last, good, so warm, smooth, yes.

“Yes.”, he uttered before the breath caught in his throat. How much more? A lot, apparently.

He gave a forceful thrust and knew a sharp sting of pain when he tore through some physical barrier inside me. I couldn’t help myself, I let out a small, wounded cry. His eyes flew open and he went utterly still. I swear I actually saw the realization dawn on his face. Stunned surprise turned to knowledge, then to disbelief and finally to… horror.

No. Don’t do this Wolf, don’t destroy this by thinking, by knowing. He moved to separate from me, to pull away, but I would have none of that. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, legs around his waist, locking him inside that embrace. It still hurt, but I stubbornly ignored that. I had him, and I wouldn’t let go yet.

“No.”, I emphasized, shutting the door to objection.

He could have forcibly pushed me away, but this was not an issue of strength. It was one of willpower, and he had none left. All the way inside now, to the root, he seemed powerless to stop himself.

In between the strange mix of pain and pleasure, he pulled back and thrust once, twice, almost desperately. My body struggled to make way for him. Everything throbbed, pulsed, contracted, too intense, defying description. Those mesmerizing eyes watched me strain and arch with a fascination I could not understand. They had likely seen everything there is to see in this world. Watched empires rise and fall, heroes achieve remarkable feats in noble endeavour. Seen marvels I can hardly imagine. And still he looked at me as if I was something unique, pristine, endlessly spellbinding.

I tugged his head to mine, needing to taste him again. In an impulse, I had taken charge of this thing, now I better see it through to the end. My tongue delved boldly into the velvet depth of his mouth, seeking that delicious, inexplicable essence. A hand gripped my waist fiercely and his movements stuttered. He gasped into the kiss before his whole body quaked, shaken by a series of frantic spasms that I felt right down at the very place where we were joined.

The silence that followed was one of the most uncomfortable things I experienced in my life. After the moments it took to regain my full devices, I merely glimpsed his dead serious expression before Solas parted from me. I felt hollow all of a sudden. A river run dry. The weight of his body had meant safety, comfort. Shelter. Now even the mild summer air turned to winter’s chill, bereft of all warmth.

Solas picked a discarded robe from the wreckage on the floor and threw it around his shoulders, then proceeded to wrap one around me too. I flinched when he helped me sit, making him halt. I was too embarrassed to even look at him. The sticky moisture I felt on my thighs and the clinical detachment of his touch mortified me. It was as though he had suddenly banished everything from his mind, leaving behind some empty, soulless shell. Nothing of the man who had shown such passion and tenderness remained.

“I shouldn’t have done that.”, he said, but how I wished he would shut up about it. Regret. Of course. Guilt? Even more so. He breathed those things, ate them, lived them. And the woman he had kidnapped was now another shameful mistake made in a streak of terrible judgment. I heard him take an uneven breath. Don’t say it. Please don’t.

“It was a mistake.” There it was. “I am…”

“Stop. Just stop, don’t say you are sorry.”, my voice sounded so feeble. I would have traded all that I owned for the ability to vanish on the spot. Solas didn’t go on and I straightened a little, pulling at the folds of fabric to cover my nakedness. A weak attempt to preserve some small measure of dignity. It didn’t help. I felt exposed, raw, like a bared nerve. Tears stung my eyes, but I battled them viciously, giving them no quarter.

“I will take you to your room.” I cringed when he made a motion to lift me and came to my feet instead, shaking my head.

“No. Leave me be.”, was all I managed then. How had this all gone so wrong? Why had I let myself believe that he’d felt the same inexorable pull, the same longing, the same… completeness that I had felt? I was such a gullible idiot. He couldn’t enjoy a damn thing in his life without tainting it with regret. Something inside me splintered. It hurt in a way nothing had hurt before. Heartbreak. Because I had been falling for this man since the day we met, fool that I was. I hadn’t listened to the warnings of reason and decent sense, and now… Too late. Being in the same room with him suddenly seemed so oppressive and painful that I couldn’t bear it for a second longer. I bolted.

“Arlenna!”, Solas called after me. I’d fled halfway down the stairs before I heard his footsteps behind me, but I didn’t care either way.

“Ren, wait!” His tone panicked now, likely thinking that I would flee into the woods again, but I had neither strength nor heart for such an escape left. The door of my room fell shut with a deafening crash, right into his alarmed face. Good. I turned the key and threw it savagely into some darkened corner. All guile abandoned me then. I fell onto the bed and curled up around myself protectively, not bothering to stop the tears now. The door-handle rattled, followed by frantic knocking.

“Ren, please. Open the door.” Or else what? Will you blast it down? Physically break through? That’s just not your style, Wolf. I had not seen him commit any sort of violence until now, except for the rampage he had caused as a wolf. I squeezed my eyes shut as the banging and pleading continued for a small eternity. Talk to me, let me in, please open, we need to speak about this. No, we won’t. When it finally subsided, I let out a relieved sigh. I should have known better than to think I had heard the end of it.

I hadn’t even properly drifted off after crying myself to sleep when I sensed his consciousness reach for mine. He’d waited in the Fade, ready to pounce on me. Relentless, presumptuous, invasive as always! I’d had enough. With a force I hadn’t even known I possessed, I pushed at him. I drove him out of my dream, my mind, blasted him through our link. Repelled his intrusion so fiercely, he staggered back from it. Then I erected every form of barrier, shield and guard he’d taught me. And taught me he had. So well that the master of the Fade himself could not get through, and not for lack of trying.

I fell into a restless slumber, lacerated by insult, longing and heartache, while the forlorn howls of a wolf haunted me into my nightmares. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh God, I hope you won't bite my head off for this! Poor Arlenna :(


	11. XI. Mirror, Mirror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for kudos and comments, and for keeping on reading even if it's a different take on Solasmancing fics <3  
> Solas-Time again! His chapters somehow always turn out much longer than I plan them. He just thinks about things so much! I do enjoy studying him. He's getting there. Slooooowly getting there. 
> 
> The flavor text here is from [How the Tide Rushes In - Poldark Original Soundtrack](https://open.spotify.com/track/6zdbNKL5uQM1pjxJc3AKTp?si=-oVGJbjFRr-WG1Nb5HHxpw). I could listen to it all day.
> 
> _Translations:_  
>  Da'hirsan - something along the line of 'insolent child'  
> 

****

### **XI. Mirror, Mirror**

_For what e'er drifts from one place_  
_Is with the tide to another brought_  
_And there's naught lost beyond recall_  
_Which cannot be found_  
_If sought_

* * *

 

 

Mother of all Spirits, what had I done? How could I have let myself lose control like this? I could not remember ever acting in such a compulsive, brazen way, taking such an outrageous liberty with the feelings of a living soul out of pure selfishness. I didn’t know if I felt more sickened by my repeated transformation, by what I had done afterwards or by the singing delight that danced and skipped through my body still. I had seduced and ravished an innocent woman. A maiden. My mind waged a war that could not be won, while physically I felt so alive I could have jumped out of my skin.

True, I had thought it a dream for the most part. It had started as a hideous nightmare which had turned into a fantasy I’d pursued more often than I cared to admit. But never so far. In none of my dreams had I taken her innocence, hurt her. Why had she not stopped me? Even after I’d realized it, she had held on to me as though I was the single piece of driftwood in a churning ocean. I could have easier separated a limb than to part from her at that moment.

Arlenna… Ren, my ardent fox girl. You were so passionate, in all your countless facets. I was assaulted by the image of her, skin pearly white, eyes burning brighter than the gem of fire resting below the tense cords of her neck. All fierce heat and gentle softness, curling around me as I moved inside her, melted into pure oblivion. My lids closed in an attempt to gain focus, a fruitless endeavour. That memory would be etched into my mind forever.

How could I make her understand? The more involved she became with me, the more painful it would be when she learned the true extent of my plans. I needed her to provide me with enough power to open another Breach, one under my control this time, and then some more to tear down the Veil. The world she had known, in which she’d been born and had grown to be what she was now would cease to exist.

I stopped rapping on the door and leaned my forehead against the smooth yew-wood. The false gods had to be destroyed, once and for all, and Elvhenan must be restored. Otherwise I would have failed and the world would remain disconnected forever. But did I really believe that? I’d never allowed myself doubt before. There was no room for it. Yet could I truly justify my path by saying that a divided world would need to end, so that a whole one could rise? Even I could not predict what would await me when the Veil finally fell. And what if I died trying to defeat the false gods? I would have left behind a swath of destruction and chaos then. A very real possibility. There were several of them, and only one of me.

Death in itself did not frighten me. Sometimes I wondered what it would be like. To fade away, to end. Let my spirit join the space between all things, the vast net that I had glimpsed in dreams, shimmering at the edge of my vision. It would be a pleasant way to go.

_Alsheras_ can perceive it, the tapestry of magic, like a sixth sense. And that is the reason why almost all of them perished when I created the Veil. They had formed bonds to the Evanuris they served, to loved ones, to other creatures, spirits – the good and the more dangerous, in some cases. Isolated from those connections, blinded and maddened, they fell into despair. All ancient elves had links like the one Arlenna had spontaneously forged between us, but for an _alshera_ , living without them had been like having all of your limbs cut off. _Taren’hal_ , they were called, ‘minds joined’.

“Ren, please open the door.”, I called for the fifth time, knowing I accomplished nothing by it. She wouldn’t talk to me. Our link had thinned to a whisper because she had retreated into herself. I felt bereft of a heightened perception that I’d gotten used to much too quickly. Too much time spent in isolation, starved of the connection to living things… I’d drawn strength from Arlenna, not even so much consciously but on mere instinct. Concerning this woman, I had slipped up almost every step of the way in staying detached.

Death did not frighten me in itself, no. But what I feared above all was dying alone. Leaving the world without a single sympathetic soul who’d remember me with kindness. Old friendships had crumbled. My companions in the Fade gave some comfort, but they always reminded me even more of what had been lost. I had numerous followers, yet they all kept a necessary distance. Some out of respect, some because I made them uncomfortable. Loneliness is a persistent thing. The longer it lasts, the stronger it gets. Clings to the soul, like a second skin, a weight that wears us down, one inch at a time.

Maybe these pathetic ruminations were for no good, anyway. My left hand stung in mocking assent. Yes, I know you want to grow. Spread, devour, swallow me. I tried everything to lift the curse, to no avail. I dreamed for hours, searching the Fade for some residue of thought, or even wisdom about such a potent spell in my memories. Only one being came to my mind who I thought capable of creating it. It seems fate has finally caught up with me. I was being hunted. Like an eager reaper breathing down my neck, I sensed it. No, I was being fatalistic. I had a more immediate problem to think about.

Whichever of my people had turned against me and cast that spell, they had failed – somewhat. They would try again soon. I’d more or less ruled out a few of them. Linala, for example, I deemed much too zealous and stringent about my cause. Sereas, the leader of my warriors, I thought he was unlikely too to have done it. I’d known him for longer than most of the others. Marina, Karrill, the Erin brothers… There were just too many, and I could prove nothing with any degree of certainty. Another reason why I shouldn’t be pulling Arlenna into this game of shadows with me, why I should leave her the hell alone. A storm was coming.

She had demanded to know what my true plans were, again. I had told her not yet, again. The truth of the matter was that I delayed. Unwilling to give up the light-hearted, enveloping feeling that melted away my worries when I was with her. Watching her dream and learn, slowly easing into her true potential. I wanted to avoid her smile turning awry, her eyes viewing me with contempt as they had done on that first day. Keep her too myself, selfishly, for just a bit longer.

But now… Now she was in danger. A traitor walked free in Var’Thenerasan. And if that wouldn’t be enough, the curse that transformed me into the Dread Wolf was likely an even greater menace to her. I loathed to remember how I had barely stopped from attacking her tonight. Spirits, what should I do? The curse would only become worse. Until I found a way to lift it, I was putting Ren in harm’s way.

A perilous thought occurred to me then. Yet with it came such a tightness to my chest that it ached to breathe. My mind’s eye showed me what lay behind the great curtain in my bedroom and the talisman around my neck hummed. No. Not yet. But it would be the right thing to do, conscience argued. I know. Not yet. Soon.

I had to get through to her again first, apologize, explain that I did not regret what had happened between us. Or at least not for the reasons she thought. I owed her honesty, and not because she’d helped me return from the Dread Wolf twice now. She had given something to me, a thing I could never repay her for. I didn’t think sharing that experience with her had been a mistake. Taking advantage of her innocence had. The sound of pain from her lips had nearly torn me wide open. I squeezed my eyes shut and turned away from the door. I was getting no reaction this way.

Back in the complete chaos I had made of my bedroom, I sat down on the mattress and distractedly rearranged the broken things, those that could still be mended at any rate. Nothing I could do about the ruined murals. Instead, I drifted into dreaming, waiting for Arlenna to fall asleep. I wouldn’t relent until she agreed to hear me out. But I should have known better. As soon as I latched on to her presence, I was repelled with such strength it nearly threw me from the Fade. Despite the impenetrable barrier that effectively rendered all further effort futile, I knew a keen rush of pride. In time, she would be an excellent _alshera_. But for now, I was exiled to purgatory.

* * *

 

Over the next few days, the weather seemed inclined to mirror my dark mood, turning overcast and drizzly. Arlenna still refused to speak to me, yet she also did not flee, for reasons I could not fathom. She kept to her room and allowed no one but Vin in there. If I entered anyway, she would simply act as though I did not exist. With the boy constantly on watch, I had little chance for a private conversation. I was quite effectively outfoxed.

A soft rain had started falling in the morning and continued through noon, spraying the back of my neck like sea-foam as I stood in the courtyard before the Sphere of Mythal. It had lost a considerable amount of its strength on the day I’d received the curse. Feeding it to full power again would take weeks, if not months. No one but me knew the full intricacy of this spell. I had given so much to it over the years, it now contained a piece of my very essence. The energy inside did not just protect all of Var’Thenerasan, but also imbued everything in the vicinity with its magic. Dreaming in the Fade became easier, spells much more feasible to cast.

My constant magic thinned the Veil, yet would never rip it open entirely, not from this side. Still the orb was a very important part of my plans. If I could make it strong enough, it would allow me to step into the Fade and influence the Veil directly. But only an _alshera_ could help me to do that. Only someone who could not merely see the web of unused magic, but weave it too. And mine still punished me with stony silence. I sighed, making Sereas, who sat on a bench beneath the sphere cleaning his swords, look up at me. He didn’t comment on my gloomy state of mind. Not a man of many words, he never has been.

“I always thought it was beautiful.”, came a voice from behind me. I turned to see Linala standing a few feet away, observing what I did with an intense, mesmerized expression on her etched features. “But its shine seems duller now. The disturbance a few days ago did that? What could it have been?” Both she and Sereas eyed me curiously, as always expecting me to have an answer. The fingers of my left hand flexed against my will, trying to disperse the stinging sensation that had permanently taken hold of it. After a moment, I resumed my task undeterred.

“Likely an eruption of energy in the Fade.”, I lied smoothly. “Some spirit ventured too close, or an erratic current clashed with it.”

“Are we in danger?”, Sereas asked as he sheathed the meticulously polished swords. I did not enjoy lying to them, yet was just as unwilling to tell them the truth. Although unlikely, either of them could have been the one who had attacked me. Both had some extent of magical abilities, despite using them in very different styles. Sereas imbibed his swords with battle-enchantments that could freeze enemies or sear them with destructive flame. Linala was a rift mage of moderate talent, but she had been an archer first. Now she combined the two skills in a deadly and stealthy mix. I had trained her for a while and remembered that she’d been a difficult student. Too inflexible, rigid. A trait that carried over from her personality, where she was also too set in her ways. Yet her loyalty and fierce determination were points in her favour, not just when she negotiated between the other followers but also when I needed to be ruthless. I stopped the wandering thoughts to answer Sereas’ question.

“No. I stabilized it when I returned. But as a precaution, you can set up a tighter watch on the perimeters, Sereas.” The commander of my warriors would sleep sounder then, I knew. Sometimes he reminded me a little of Sajnalin, always planning some guard rotation or reading through scout reports. Linala cleared her throat. Of course, that couldn’t have been it.

“ _Mirthadra_. May I speak to you?”, she began, a certain edge in her tone I knew well. Displeased about something, for certain. “…In private?”, my advisor added with a pointed look at Sereas. The man shook his head imperceptibly and shrugged, leaving Linala and me alone in the wide courtyard area.

“What is it, Linala?” I paused the recharging spell and surveyed her. Posture tense, face stretched taut over her prominent elven cheekbones. As always with a cool sort of detachment in her light blue eyes.

“I wished to…”, she stopped and gave a tiny jerk of her head as though chasing away an errant impulse. “With all due respect, I don’t agree with your decision to let that _harellan_ run free in Var’Thenerasan. And even more so, to let her live in the tower. I-“

“Do not call her that.”, I snapped, harsher than necessary, maybe. “She has a name. Arlenna.”

A flash of acute anger crossed my advisor’s features, but she composed herself almost instantly.

“ _Mirthadra_ , she is the spawn of your enemy, have you forgotten that? I was at the Conclave issued by Shenlira Lavellan twenty-five years ago. She tried her best to taint your name and disincline any elf who seemed prone to follow you. She sabotaged your cause! Anything that came from her is not to be trusted, but you act ignorant to the danger. The others are already talking –“

“You are out of line _, da’hirsan_.” My voice had dropped dangerously low, a very clear warning that she should have heeded for her sake. I had much less patience left than usually these days, although I couldn’t rightly say if for being harrowed by the curse or the turbulent events around my unwilling guest. Yet it seemed that Linala had chosen this day to challenge me and tempt fate, for she went on as though I hadn’t spoken.

“The girl could tamper with the sphere, or kill you in your sleep! What if the disturbance came from her erratic magic? What if she did it to escape?! We can find a way without her. Send her home, back to nest of vipers she came from! She’ll be your doom. The others say you favour her, even take her to bed-“

“ _Enough_!”, I yelled so furiously that several elves across the courtyard flinched and stared in disbelief. The storm of my ire charged the misty air like an impending strike of lightning. I felt the space around me crackle and plunge into an icy chill that stung with cold in each breath. The pain in my hand peaked and the creature imprisoned there growled menacingly. Behind me, the light of my sphere flickered in agitation. Linala backed away, eyes darting between me and the spell above.

“What is with you, Linala? I will not have you speak such insults. Hold your tongue if you know what is good for you.”, I told her in a hiss, taking great care that none of the others heard the rebuke. “I have not forgotten anything. I do not forget. It is you who should well remember what I told you when you came here, all alone and half-starved, after being exiled from your clan. Repeat it to me now.” Her face went blank for a moment, jaw hardening. Just as well. Punishment is not supposed to be pleasant. I did not have many rules. Everyone who came to me with the honest will to join would be given shelter, home and a purpose. For as long as they did not become a hindrance to my goal.

“ _Trust me to see it through, even if my actions seem illogical, strange, or even monstrous to you_.”, Linala repeated my words woodenly. Not the literal version of what I had said, but good enough.

“Good. Think about that the next time before you utter such a thoughtless thing. I never force my cause on people. The decision about their fates will always be their own. I respected Shenlira’s decision not to join me just the way I respected yours to do so. I will not tolerate you speaking badly about her.”, I added more calmly now. She seemed to sense that the danger had passed, from the way her shoulders sank out of the tense posture.

“What of… Arlenna?”, she said with a considerable effort to sound sincere. Yes, what of Arlenna? If I only knew. Arlenna was different. She was the only person whose help I could not forgo. I needed her. I could keep lying, withholding the truth, but in the end I couldn’t force her to help me any more than I could force her to forgive me for the insensitive things I had said to her. It dawned on me that there might be only one way left to end this sorry state.

“I will handle her. Now go.”, I dismissed Linala, not quite making an effort to keep the censure from my tone. She gave an uptight, tense little bow and walked away. When I glanced up at the Spire, I just caught sight of Arlenna in the window, before she vanished a moment later. Sneaking a peek, of course.

* * *

 

Late that evening as I climbed the steps to my study, the tunes of a calm piano piece greeted me. Arlenna’s door was ajar and I sensed her presence behind it, very faintly, subdued. Playing the instrument made her quiescent, bridled her fire to serenely glowing embers. She was alone. I stepped inside her softly lit domain, noting the music sheets and open books on the desk, the rumpled blankets on the gauze-curtained bed. The song came to a fluent end.

“You do understand the concept of knocking?”, Ren spoke into the unravelling silence. Her voice carried no anger, but also no other emotion.

“The door was ajar.” She let out a sigh, her back still turned to me.

“Go away.” No, not today.

“At some point, you _will_ have to speak to me. And look at me. Ren.”, I ventured, gently. She threw me a minuscule glance, but I sensed how she argued with herself. I felt good about my chances.

“Will you hear me out if I tell you something about my plans?” That did the trick. She finally faced me, although it appeared she could not quite decide where to look. Her tawny eyes darted around until they fixated a point below my chin, a deep rosy colour rising to her cheeks. I closed the door and walked to her. Staying motionless like a wary animal, she watched my every move. I crouched down cautiously, since she hadn’t stirred to make space on the stool.

“Please listen to me. What happened the other night…” I had played this conversation a dozen times in my head, but now that it had finally arrived, all my clever preparation abandoned me. “I did not… choose my words very wisely then. I think you misunderstood… Did you really believe that I would have gone so far if I had not wanted to?” A small nick appeared between her brows.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you fumbling for words.”, she murmured. “I don’t know what to believe. Whenever I think I’m beginning to understand you, you do a backflip, a sudden twist, a side-step.” I reached for those slender hands tightly clasping each other in her lap. She didn’t pull away, let me brush the backs of her fingers lightly.

“Do you not trust your instincts, Ren? You created a _taren’hal_ , but remain sceptical about what you see in it.” To her questioning regard, I let a general perception of our link carry over to her through my touch. Her face softened, yet the frown did not disappear from her forehead.

“But you told me not to look to far into that link. You said you’d wished to avoid it.” I had said that, true. It must have felt like a rejection to her, just as my behaviour that night must come across as the archetype of double standards.

“Yes. And I apologize for not explaining myself. My world is a dangerous, dark place, often lined with treacherous pitfalls. You have seen the curse, you know the nature of my enemies. I pulled you into this, thinking I had it all under control… I do not wish to expose you to these hazards. You are whim and spark, like a playful wisp who enjoys playing tricks on travellers.” She gave a crooked smile that filled me with a sense of critical victory. Fleeting fingertips ghosted over my palm.

“I hope not. Those creatures are said to lead people astray in the woods.” Indeed they do. It was why I had chosen that metaphor. “Do you ever not take yourself too seriously? Allow a little room for… flaws?”

“No.”, I answered, confused by the question. “I cannot afford flaws, nor mistakes. The consequences are too dire.” Arlenna scoffed sarcastically, puzzling me further.

“That’s just ridiculous. Not every impulse results in pure disaster. What are the dire consequences of you taking me to bed? Or rather… Taking me on the floor.” Thank the spirits for the return of that sharp, irresistible tongue. I had loathed her grudging silence. And at the same time, she flushed scarlet at her own blunt words. Maybe Linala was right. Maybe this woman would be my doom. Sliding a hand around her narrow waist, I pulled her to me. She let out a little yelp, bracing her hands on my shoulders, but did not resist.

“Where do I start? That I cannot focus on Fade-walking as much as I’d like to anymore? That I wake up every night, haunted by the memory? Mad with longing, because I can still taste your lips, smell the scent of your skin, feel your heat as you cling to me, stretched tight like a bowstring.” I stopped speaking, for my voice had grown throaty as I recalled those images to my mind. Arlenna’s eyes went wide first, then darkened until the soft brown had turned almost black. She inhaled a fractured breath, fingers clenching and unclenching inside the fabric of my tunic.

Her head tilted just one inch as she wetted her lips surreptitiously with her tongue. Likely with no clue about the outright sensuality of that small gesture. Just one, I told myself with stern discipline. But before I could stretch to indulge in this great weakness, she leaned towards me on her own accord. As I lost track of time in her sweet kiss, I wondered fleetingly if control over this whole situation had ever been mine at all.

Could I ever control a creature that burned in such vivid colours? I might rear up against it like a ship battling some mighty wave, but to what end? Mute her, make her silent, when that challenging, hot-blooded side was what made her spirit so beautiful? The keen emotions I sensed in our link nearly had me forget myself. She did not endlessly agonize over things, build convoluted labyrinths of thought. She just _was_ , lived in the moment. So intricately, so sincerely. It took some unmeasured amount of time until I mustered the willpower to part from her. She stayed close, gazing at me pensively with her hand still placed on my shoulder.

“You really _are_ a villain.”, she said in that piercing tone I knew well by now. I couldn’t keep from laughing at it. Arlenna answered with a smile of her own. A small one, but still. Which made her next question all the more unpleasant. “After all of this, you owe me some answers, Wolf. What will you ask of me, once I become a true _alshera_?” I exhaled a heavy breath.

“Easier to show you than to explain. Close your eyes and concentrate on our taren’hal.” I curbed the apprehension in me and touched her smooth brow as her lids fell shut.

“Taren’hal? What does it mean?”, she couldn’t refrain from asking.

“Focus, Ren. It means ‘minds joined’. Now be still.”, I instructed her. She did. Dismissing the information her other senses carried, she turned her full attention to our link and let me flood it with images.

I showed her everything. The cruelty and selfishness of the false gods, those who I managed to save from them and the many more I could not save. How I had created the Veil from _Tarasyl'an te'las_ to stop the Evanuris once and for all. Release their stranglehold on my people. I showed her the last memories of Elvhenan, the destruction and death. I sensed her horror, but not once did she avert her eyes or tell me to stop, and so I went on.

How I had awakened to an alien world, deadened to magic, unaware that just beyond its boundaries there lived its second half, harbouring all that could not take physical form on its own. The wrongness of it. My people, scattered and isolated, shunned by the humans or in turn shunning them, while they lived a lie about their past. And then I showed her the plan that had formed in my mind as I’d looked upon the consequences of my actions.

Restore what had once been. Destroy the thing that had divided all. It would bring chaos and destruction once more, but from that, the old beauty of my people would rise. My first failed attempt with the orb, and the Breach resulting from that, brought into order by the Inquisition. Nothing had worked until now.

_But with you, it will_., I told her. She saw herself, an alshera at her full potential, channelling the power I needed to unravel the Veil. I felt her revulsion like the sting of a flame. The connection broke off abruptly as Arlenna pulled away from my touch.

“This is what you want me to do for you? This is your great plan to build the elves a new home? More destruction?!”, her voice rose with outrage. “I can’t even… It would mean chaos, demons everywhere, magic out of control –“

“It was the natural state of the world! Everyone had magic and spirits were not strange creatures others feared, but givers of wisdom, sharers of knowledge! There were no demons, not like they are today. People were aware of their spiritual connections, of the energy that holds all together, now they fumble like children to feel anything at all!”, I burst out, unable to keep a level head anymore. Arlenna began pacing the room like a caged animal, raking her hands through her hair.

“That world grew to be over thousands of years, Solas! It evolved, changed in its own time. Just like the one that is today needed eons to find any kind of balance after you created the Veil. How can you even think about making the world go through such a cataclysm all over again? Have you learned nothing from the first time?! You intend no gentle transition, you want to clash the Fade into the physical realm by brute force, uncaring about the collateral damage!”

“ _So help me I will, or else die trying! I will not fail_!”, I hadn’t realized that I was yelling until I saw Arlenna’s face lose all colour and go blank.

“I think I finally understand… You punish yourself for what your decision created. You can’t let go of the past. You think that if you can only recreate exactly the world you knew, it will somehow clear your conscience, your name. Whatever world you make, it will never be the same as before! Too much has passed, too much has changed! You’re not a god to be gambling away with the lives of countless people!” I knew the exact moment she lost control over her emotions, because her power flared like a beacon and only proficient reflexes helped me raise a shield against it. The colourful glass windows burst into countless shards, the piles of parchment were blown into all directions, every light-orb in the room shattered. Her raw magic was both beautiful and terrifying, a stifling pressure on my lungs. Several pieces of unlucky furniture went flying, yet the channel only held for a moment. The next instant it was over, and Arlenna crumpled to the ground, panting. I rushed to her.

“I’m sorry, I – I don’t – Did I hurt you?”, her voice was as frantic as her eyes and hands searching me.

“No, hush, no, nothing happened. Hush now.”, I soothed, alarmed at the distress that battered me though the taren’hal. “I am a mage of some skill, remember?” Ren let out a shaky laugh, but then her face suddenly turned terrified.

“I saw something… Just now, when I… let the fire overwhelm me. Not saw, maybe… But felt it.”, she shook her head in quick jerks, confused.

“What was it? What did you see?”, I held her by the shoulders and let steadiness and calm flow through my hands. She swallowed.

“My mother… She… called out to me. She was in pain, great pain… But that wasn’t real, right? It’s just my… my fears playing tricks on me.” Instinctively, she sent me the images. I could have lied. I could have told her yes, just your fear, there is nothing wrong surely. But I did not. Instead, I helped her to stand.

“Come with me.”, I ordered curtly, taking the steps to my bedroom two at a time. She followed, right up to the embroidered curtain covering a considerable part of the far wall.

“Solas! What is this about?”, she demanded, gasping for air.

“Blood ties. They sometimes allow such erratic visions, when emotions run high.”, I explained.

“You mean… that was real?” Her expression was now one of shock and anxiety.

“We will see soon.” I pulled the curtain away, revealing the polished surface of the towering mirror behind it, its glass still flawless. Ren let out a yelp of disbelief.

“An Eluvian!? But, how? Why did you destroy the one in the clearing if…”, but I cut her short.

“No time to explain now. Let’s just say this one is under my full control. Watch…” My talisman hummed into life and the mirror with it, showing us a beautifully tended garden at the middle of a hedge maze. I could see Vigil’s End rise above the hedges, no lights burning in its elegant, tinted windows. Three stories high, its walls the hue of antique brass, it stood like a dark guardian in the night.

“Nobody home? That can’t be!”, Ren exclaimed, but at that moment we both saw it. The slight shape crumpled near the hedges on the ground, one pale, scarred hand lying in the grass.

“Mum!” Ren cried, her hands suddenly thumping the polished glass. I hadn’t opened the gateway yet. “It’s her heart! She had a fit – Mum, Mum!” Tears had gathered at the corners of her eyes. On the other side of the mirror, Da’Assan moved, gripped the grass, as though she could hear her daughter calling out to her. Watching Arlenna in despair... I simply gave in. I found no resolve to fight the inevitable.    

“Go.” My insides twisted in denial at letting her go. Every part of me, except for one. It was fragile, intangible, dancing, and yet overpowered all else. The part which cared about this woman so much that I could not bear to see her in pain. I knew that feeling. I knew, and even in my thoughts I didn’t dare to voice what it was. Because no sooner than I had it, I was losing it again.

All my life, I studied emotions in dreams and memories. They could bring forth everything between radiant beauty and hideous rancor. So much and for so long I walked their domain that I could silence them inside me, watch and understand with just enough distance so I would not be drawn into them. Yet that had never stopped me from longing for what I couldn’t have. And our kind feels deeply. Down to the marrow. It may not openly show on a face, in a gesture or a word, but it is there, in the links that tie us to each other. Subtle, and even more powerful.

As I looked at Arlenna now, her face white with shock, I felt ruptured. To let her go now meant to consciously diverge from the path I had chosen, because of my feelings for her. But even more than that, it meant to face solitude once more. The prison, the isolation, the guilt. She would never trust me again after what I had told her today, anyway. Not even I trusted myself anymore. It was better for her to go home now than to stay and slowly begin to despise me. And still…

“Wolf…”, Ren said in a mere whisper. I couldn’t meet her eyes. If I did, my decision would waver. The talisman around my neck vibrated as I lifted one hand and cast the spell that would open the Eluvian’s gateway. The faint blue glow rippled across its surface, flooding her features with a battle between light and shadow.

“Can’t you…” I didn’t know how she intended to finish that sentence. Can’t you come with me? Can’t you give it all up? Wishful thinking. Do not tempt me, Ren. I closed my eyes for an instant and cut her short.

“I cannot leave Var’Thenerasan when it is vulnerable. Help her. Go. Please. Before I… can think it through.” The weight of my own heart seemed to grow with each thud as I took off the wolf-jaw charm and stepped closer. She stayed perfectly still while I fastened it around her neck, lifting the heavy mass of fox-colored locks out of the way.

“If you ever wish to return… You will know what to do.”, I managed to say in a voice I didn’t recognize as my own. She looked down at the blackened bone for one endless moment. When I moved to take a step back, a hand grasped my sleeve like a lifeline.

“Thank you.” And then her arms were around me and her lips pressed to mine in a kiss that burned incandescent with all the things she couldn’t say. For a few short seconds, our link overflowed in a riptide of sensations and I felt invincible, unstoppable… Alive.

Then she pulled free, disappearing inside the magic mirror with her hair twirling behind her like a shining ribbon. The Eluvian’s light died and left me staring at a stranger who wore my face, but otherwise nothing else that was mine.

Hope has a talent of sneaking into one’s soul without notice, growing roots ever so patiently, ready to make itself known at the worst possible time. Against my will, I saw what could have been. I saw myself in the enchanted mirror standing behind Arlenna, relieved of the regret that had driven me for every minute of every day since I’d woken to this strange, changed world. Smiling, reaching to pull her to me. I saw Da’Assan lift her hand and wave, calling me to hunt. Sajnalin right beside her, regarding me kindly.

I saw all the people I had turned away from, welcoming me home. My hands pressed to the cold glass, but they were beyond, in a place I could not visit, a place I had been banned from. The beast locked inside me threw back its head to howl into the emptiness, and I joined in. Shouting my fury, my defeat, my madness in one long note through the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh damn, I did it again. I slipped and made some drama. But it's good drama this time! I mean, they say "absence makes the heart grow fonder". Or something. They have both yet to realize what their instincts are screaming at them all the time already...
> 
> I have some fanart I made recently to soothe the feels:
> 
> [ ](https://orig00.deviantart.net/a504/f/2018/116/d/a/the_last_hunt_by_merryminstrel-dc9wwhy.png)
> 
> Click it for the true size, much details!
> 
> The original post on deviantart is [found here](https://merryminstrel.deviantart.com/art/The-Last-Hunt-742245766)
> 
> If you like it, please feel free to visit me on tumblr! <https://merryminstrel.tumblr.com/>
> 
>  


	12. XII. Mother's Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally get to write an honest conversation between Arlenna and Shenlira (the Inquisitor), who against all outward appearances is not quite what she may have seemed until now.  
> Remember how both Arlenna and Solas had wondered why she had not "shot to kill"? Well, the situation is still a mess, but I think at some point there will be a meeting between these old friends...

###  **XII. Mother’s Love**

_I brought you into this world, thinking that no force on earth could ever make me part from you willingly. Yet when you first let go of my hand and flew across the garden to catch a squirrel, I knew, with absolute certainty, that you would one day choose your own path. A path on which I could not follow, neither should I. Every mother both fears and rejoices that moment. For me, it was the night you returned through the Eluvian. You were my daughter, but changed. More than before, a profound purpose in your eyes. I felt it in my heart then that you would leave again, and I would not stop you. After all, I had not named you I-Am-Meek, or I-Am-Settled, no matter how much a selfish part of me wished I had. You would seek your fate, whether I agreed or not. I only hope that he will realize his own, before the end draws near._

* * *

 

 

I plummeted through shadow and haze, fingers clenching the wolf-jaw talisman that trembled in contest with my heartbeat. I held on to it so tightly, the edges cut my skin. My eyes were fixed on the tiny picture of Vigil’s End somewhere far ahead, while every single thought inside me was utter turmoil. Mum was in pain – I had to get to her! Solas had let me go, after he’d finally told me the whole truth. A truth so tremendous that I still reeled from it.

“Why?!”, I screamed into the void as I fell. Destroy the Veil, so all could be reborn in chaos. _So help me I will or else die trying! I will not fail!_ Such insane conviction… Insane? Desperate. There had to be another way. There just had to. No, focus! Mum needs you! From the chorus of my torn emotions, I suddenly emerged into complete silence and darkness. I breathed in the scent of summer flowers, leaves and dew. In a flurry I wiped the tears from my eyes and stumbled towards my mother lying in the grass at the edge of the maze. Journeying through the elvhen gateways had not been less dizzying the second time over.

“Mum!” She stirred immediately at the sound of my voice, pushing herself up on both hands. I wrapped my arms around her and sobbed like a little girl.

“Ari… You’re back. Ari!” She held me just as fiercely for an endless moment, as if she had never thought to see me again. I steadied her, not even fully aware of the energy I channelled into her trembling body. I stopped myself as soon as I realized it. My powers were too erratic to risk using them without… I gulped. But Mum straightened a little and took a shuddering breath.

“Where’s Da? Where are the guards? He wouldn’t just leave you alone! Where’s Cassian?”, I bombarded her with questions before I forcibly reined myself in at the sight of her face contorting in pain. The fits of weakness were rare, most often brought on by stress. They had started a few years ago, and the healers surmised that they were likely a late aftermath of the Anchor. I knew now the full story behind that, too…

“Your father has ridden to the mountain border with Divine Victoria and taken a part of the guard. The others are escorting your brother back from Cumberland where he searched for you. He was delayed, and…”, Mum winced as I helped her to stand. I carefully grasped her marred hand and inhaled a sharp breath when I felt the echo of the spell which had once dwelled there. It had been of such magnitude that a residue still lingered, even after the quarter of a century. How strange. I’d touched my mother’s hand a thousand times, but with knowledge how to use my connection to the Fade, my perception of it was greatly heightened.

She’d wielded a power somewhat similar to mine. Opened tears into the Fade, or much rather closed the ones opening to wreak havoc on the land. I’d been told stories, but now I understood it too. And also saw that Solas had removed the spell before it could spread out of control and kill her. With the precision of a surgeon, leaving as much function as possible in the hand. Even though it left her weakened and caused these problems with her heart, without him, I would not have a mother. I would not have come to be.

“Ari? Are you alright?”, Mum asked, and I nodded automatically.

“Your father could not wait for Cassian, he wanted to speak with the scouts at the border. Your godmother was going to ask the royal summit for help in looking for you. We called in all favours we could think of, but you had vanished like you had never even existed… I can’t even tell you… Your father was sick with worry –“

“It’s alright, Mum. Don’t stress yourself into the next attack. Let’s go inside.”, I soothed her. Before We left the maze, I threw one glance over my shoulder at the Eluvian. A faded old mirror again, the magic now dormant. I wondered if Solas could see us through the one on his side, and then remembered that he had given me his talisman… It didn’t hum any longer, but the complex magic inside was still tangible.

Have you given me control over the entire network, Wolf? Did you fear that you’d regret your decision and come after me? I delved into our taren’hal, but received no answer. I sensed him somewhere far away, alive… Nothing more. Did he consciously block the connection? I bit my lip, trying to shake those thoughts from my head.

Mum told me of the fruitless search my family had launched after my kidnapping as I led her into the mansion, through the darkened corridors into my parents’ bedroom. I helped her climb the giant bed, glancing at the empty, neatly made side where my father usually slept. The anxiety and distress they had gone through clawed at my insides like an animal whetting its talons.

But I noticed that she did not go into much detail, deliberately avoided causing me worry. Typical behaviour for her. She had always been private to the point of being secretive, especially when it came to painful emotions or loss. She usually dealt with it on the inside, but over the years I had gotten quite accomplished in reading between the lines.

I ghosted through the empty house to bring her water and some left-overs from the kitchen, fussing over her until she grew impatient and ordered me to sit. She looked me over thoroughly with her piercing grey eyes, and it didn’t escape me how they lingered on the wolf-jaw charm around my neck.

“He let you go.”, Mum said. It wasn’t a question. I could have easier convinced the High Judge of Denerim Court that I was the lost princess of Ferelden than lied to my mother. Not that I _wanted_ to lie to her, not about… the general things. Only about those which made my face burn with mortification and whipped my heart into a wild race. I swallowed the knot in my throat.

“Yes. I… got angry and… had a sort of vision about you being in pain. He showed me Vigil’S End inside an Eluvian, where we saw you collapsed in the garden. So he… he let me go to help you.” Mum just looked at me for a very, very long time.

Then, she simply said: “Tell me everything. From the beginning.”  

So I did. Not everything. I skipped over the awkward, heavily implicating parts. But I told her about my strange abilities and how I had begun training them with Solas’ help, the rocky start of that whole ordeal. I described my first room in Var’Thenerasan, the magic and isolation of that place, the Sphere of Mythal and the Spire. She grew more pensive as I spoke about taking control of my dreams and my connection to the Fade.

I halted for a moment when I arrived at the night of the curse, but then proceeded to tell her that too. Her brow furrowed, deeper and deeper as I elaborated Solas’ transformation into the Dread Wolf and how I had reversed it. When I finally ended the tale with my return, I had talked myself hoarse. Silence fell between us as my mother digested the immense amount of information.

“So he has been cursed to turn into an actual wolf. How ironic…”, she mused after a while.

“I know. After being called Dread Wolf for so long, to actually become it…” Mum shook her head, baffling me.

“That is not what I meant. The wolf in itself is not an evil creature, Ari. No wild animal is. They have no concept of evil, nor even time as we know it. Ask any of them ‘What has been yesterday?’ or ‘What will happen tomorrow?’ and they would have no answer.”, she said.

“How do you ask an animal anything?”, I pondered, to which she laughed.

“I’m sorry. You don’t. But I have spent a greater part of my life in the company of animals. Some things, you simply learn by watching them. They do not grieve as we do. They do not worry about their yesterdays, nor agonize over their tomorrows. Man is the only creature capable of that. Man, or in this case… elf.” I understood it then. Hunt, forget, run. Cursed to forget, when all he wanted to do was to remember, forever.

“I told him that he was trapped in his past when he showed me how he wanted to tear down the Veil.”, I blurted out. Mum nodded and sighed.

“And those were true words. He didn’t hurt you, did he?”, she asked, her expression unforgiving.

“No. No, not at all. He was… kind, most of the time.” I trailed away. Mum surveyed me, a strange glint in her eyes. She saw too much. Yet she didn’t pry. She never did.

“Mum… You knew all of this. You knew so much and let me walk into this mess knowing nothing. Why have you never told me? About my heritage, about… Solas, about his plans for me?” I tried to keep the accusation from my voice and didn’t quite succeed. She averted her gaze into the distance, then closed her eyes as though enduring some great ordeal. I sensed a change in her aura. It was as if she opened a door somewhere in the depths of herself, one which had been under lock and key for many years.

“Solas was my closest friend when I led the Inquisition. Only your father did I trust more than him. I sought him for guidance, for simple companionship… You should have seen me back then. I was awkward, solitary. I had lived my whole life in the wilderness, and then suddenly had the mantle of leadership thrust on me. Some bonds affect us more deeply than others. When I learned that it all had been built on a lie, I swore to myself to cut that bond lest it tainted everything else. Over time, it turned to grudge and then to cold fury. So when he came to warn us that he would take you away, I told him I will sooner die than let that happen. While inwardly, a tiny, tiny piece of me hoped that he would never cross that line. That he would lay his own past to rest, for his sake. Because I still cared about my friend. I knew he was not evil, no matter how much I wanted to convince myself otherwise. There is no true evil in someone who feels so much guilt. Yet he will never find peace until he faces the truth.” I had rarely heard my mother speak this long and this openly in one sitting.

“What truth?”, I managed to ask, anxious.

“That he seeks to breathe life into a corpse. You can raise the dead from the grave, but they will never live again. Elvhenan is gone. It is… sorrowful, and horrible. But our people have suffered enough, have been torn apart so many times. Better to let old bones lie, before you become just as crumbled as them.” She paused and it was quiet for some time.

“I am sorry I never told you, my cub. It was foolish, but… I just didn’t want the past to poison your future.”, she said gently, covering my hand with hers. In a strange way, I understood her. Yet it also grieved me how difficult the situation between my mother and her closest friend had become. So much old hurt on both sides. Could it ever be put right again?

That night, I slept fully-dressed, on the wide settee in my parents’ bedroom, watching Mum’s face slacken as the pain let go of her and she found rest. I couldn’t seem to muster enough focus for Fade-walking, still harrowed by the day’s events. My dreams were nightmarish things where I was thrown into a pit of snakes all hissing in gleeful anticipation. One of them was a horrible monstrosity with Linala’s head on a reptilian body.

“I trained them to bite, _harellan_!”, she cackled in forked tongues. The slithering tails wrapped around me until I thought I would suffocate. Then I turned into a wolf and ran, just ran, utter isolation in my heart, howling out into the vast forest, searching, yearning. But nothing answered me. I had no pack to face the ugly curs sniffing at my heels, so close that I could smell their stinking breaths. Just one more inch, and they would hamstring me. Tear me down, rip me apart –

I woke with a start, reaching frantically for his presence. I had become so accustomed to the sensation, to knowing where he was, perceiving the calm waves of his spirit. I felt hollow now, fragmented. Missing some crucial part. Our taren’hal had grown even fainter, and I hadn’t even been gone for a day. A dull ache squeezed my chest. The heart knows what the mind wants to deny so desperately. I experienced for the first time true longing. Bittersweet, like the last summer eve, when the warmth of the sun still lingers on your face while the autumn storm rumbles in the distance. _Come back._

_You make me miss you_ , I threw at him in my mind. _Even though you are such an inconceivable, screwed-up mess_. Tear down the Veil, honestly. Talk about sledgehammer methods. And the false gods? He was only one man, and this time he did not have scores of ancient elvhen at his side. Just a single lacklustre alshera. I wasn’t even sure if Solas himself believed he could pull this off. Yet determined to try anything, no matter how insane it seemed.

How could I ever hope to change his mind? Why should I succeed where all else has failed? I had grown up among legends. With heroic tales of dragon slaying and world saving. Who would not be both daunted and awed, wishing they could embark on such a marvellous journey of their own? I should have heeded the voice of reason that whispered ‘be careful what you wish for’. Because now I had gotten my own adventure… and damn was I in over my head. Most of my life, I had blundered along and just taken things in stride. Somehow I doubted that would work well in this case.

Unable to return to sleep, I looked after my mother to distract myself. She slept peacefully and I sensed no distress in her aura, just an exhausted kind of stillness. I touched her hand lightly, concentrating. She dreamed. Of rolling fields and snow-crested mountains, of a time when age had not called her to caution yet, to slow down. Riding in full gallop, her companions just tiny colourful figures somewhere behind.

But she would be the first through the gates, the first to return, because someone waited there, unfailingly, to welcome her home. And her heart flew even ahead of her horse, towards that one person who was the sun in her sky. Few things can inspire hope in a downcast soul. But the fact that after twenty-five years of marriage, of waking up beside him every day, my father was still in my mother’s dreams… There were no words.

I left her as quietly as possible and tiptoed from the room, feeling lighter than before, a tiny smile on my lips.

* * *

 

Kirkwall demonstrated its nasty inclination to sodden weather during the next couple of days while I nursed my mother back to full health after her attack. To be honest, she had probably recuperated long before I stopped dogging her every step. Aside from Cook, the three maids and our one manservant, there were only the two of us. A very strange experience, coming home into an empty house.

People constantly came and went at Vigil’s End. Templars seeking my father for advice, tutors bringing new books, peddlers and messengers and oh, all sorts of folk. But my parents had sealed the house to all visitors, except the ones who took part in the search for their kidnapped daughter. They had pulled every single string they had, and then some.

But it seemed I had returned at a very unfortunate time. Da and Cassian were travelling, while two other family friends had sailed for Val Royeaux. Even Uncle Varric had gone to meet his cousin in Jader, across the Waking Sea.

And so, for one short week, my mother and I pretty much had the house to ourselves. I had not spent so much time with her since my childhood years. We asked Cook to make our favourite meals, especially this one mushroom ragout Da despised. And ginger-cakes, dozens of them. She showed me the newest riding tricks of her favourite filly, and I showed her a few of the techniques I had learned from Solas. We sat together in the library and she listened to my struggle with rudimentary elven speech. At some point she tired of the mutilation and taught me some very basic phrases. I played the piano while she sang along.

It was simple, candid enjoyment. I remember it as dancing sunlight in my heart. Over several more hours, I gave her a detailed account of my time in Var’Thenerasan. No easy feat to describe that fey beauty, the symbiosis between magic and solid stone. I also told Mum about the people I had met. Young, squirmy Vin. Quiet and severe Sereas. And of course, the Empress of Thorns, Linala. I wondered fleetingly if she’d built a bonfire with pieces from my furniture yet, the witch. Mum made a face and looked quite displeased when I described Solas’ advisor to her.

“She sounds like a real pain in the…” I grinned at her unfinished curse.

“You can’t even imagine. She called me a disgrace, the ‘heritage of a harellan’, on the day I arrived, the bitch.” My mother skipped over the foul language, thoughtful.

“I think I know this woman… Quite tall, angular, raven hair… Rigid expression, walks around like she has an iron stick for a spine?” When I nodded vigorously, she went on. “Strange… Could it be Adelin?” With an abrupt motion she rose and walked the shelves, pulling out an old, dusty tome covered with elven runes. “Did she bear Vallaslin?”

“No…”, I shook my head. “Solas removes them from his followers. I saw him do it once. But… wait, she has some marks, they are just very subtle, right here at the hairline.” I gestured to my temples. Mum’s lips pressed into a line and she returned her attention to the book, paging through it swiftly.

“I remember her because her Vallaslin were so extensive… blatant, even. Ah. They might have looked somewhat like this?” The page she’d opened depicted an intricate facial tattoo. An arrow stretched from forehead down the nose to the chin. The arc above the brows looked like a stylized bow. The pattern then meandered along one whole side of the shaved head.

“It could be, but I can’t say for sure. Her dark hair would effectively hide this whole part. Why do you ask?” I felt uneasy when she did not answer at once.

“When I learned about Solas’ plan, I called a summit of all Dalish clans I could reach. Far fewer came than I had hoped. Hers was a small, secluded clan, Kiravis. Only she and another had undergone the long journey. She was… weird, with unnerving, colourless eyes and those black markings. An Alaslin in training, about… what? Eighteen, twenty winters old. She didn’t utter one word during the talks and left in the first night. I didn’t think much of it, many Dalish condemned me for the idea that we had worshipped slavers and false gods for hundreds of years. To be honest, I forgot about her in all the commotion. Then, a couple of years later, Keeper Iraya sent me a letter. She wrote that clan Kiravis had been attacked by rabid beasts. It was carnage. The bodies were so mangled that one couldn’t even tell what sort of animal had done the killing. As far as I know, nobody survived.”, she ended her story but kept staring into the distance with an odd sort of expression on her face. It looked… disturbed.

“It seems someone survived. And changed her name? You called her Adelin.”, I noted.

“Yes…”, Mum murmured distractedly. “You know, it’s ironic.”

“What is?” She met my eyes, but I had the feeling that she gazed right through me.

“It’s ironic that Kiravis should be wiped out by wild animals. They were the most devoted followers of Andruil, the goddess of the hunt. These here are her Vallaslin.”, she pointed at the open book. I looked, but really didn’t see. Instead, I remembered the curse of the Dread Wolf: _A hunted hunter you shall be_. I felt an icy chill skitter down my spine.

_Come back_.

“Mum…? The false gods can’t enter our world, can they?”, I asked in a toneless voice.

“That is a question better posed to the one who locked them away behind the Veil, in the Beyond. But I don’t think so. Solas does not do things half-way. They cannot enter, not as long as the Veil still stands. Yet I wonder… Is it a coincidence that Adelin – or Linala now – made her way to him?”

Indeed a good point. I had a sudden, overwhelming fear that I had left him alone, weakened by the curse, with an unknown enemy who might strike at him any moment now. But Linala was his sovereign advisor, and he Fen’Harel, the trickster, the schemer. A wise man with the insight of centuries of experience. No mere mortal could manage to outwit him in his own game. Calm down, I told myself. But the taren’hal stayed silent, faint, a great distance dividing me from the man on the other end, and nothing could effectively soothe my trepidation.

“In any case, she should not be trusted.”, Mum interrupted my musings.

“Believe me, I wholeheartedly agree.”, I said grimly.    

* * *

 

The uneasiness planted inside me after this conversation did not abate. On the contrary, it soaked through every decent argument I made to convince myself that I shouldn’t worry. A bloody wound that soiled pure white linen and refused to be washed out. During the nights, I alternated between blurred nightmares and erratic dreams determined on slipping out of my control. Until I would jolt out of bed and start pacing the house like a caged animal. I worried about Solas. The silence in our link was driving me insane.

And I missed him, with a keening intensity that frightened me _. If you ever wish to return, you will know what to do_., he had said. I understood the magnitude of trust it had taken him to give me his amulet. He couldn’t have been sure that I would not bring half an army down on him through the Eluvian. But he had taken a tremendous leap of faith, for my sake.

_Come back_. I wanted to. Oh, how I wanted to.

My torn state of mind did not go unnoticed. As time passed, I caught Mum throwing me strange little looks from the corner of her eye. They were warm and a little incredulous, but… permeated by a sadness I could not understand. As if she knew… _Come back_.

Da would be home soon, and my brother too. Mum had recovered from the fit and made me plum dumplings, trilling her little cooking song until I laughed tears. Uncle Varric should be back in a few days. He didn’t get a chance to give me my birthday present this year.

I went to sleep with my heart weighing a ton in my chest. I walked through shadow and fog while accusing eyes watched, waited for me to take a false step. But the tall figure silhouetted against the haze went on, and I followed, never reaching him. _Come back_.

And then, one night, I was pulled into his dream. Just like that. He stood on a moon-flooded balcony overlooking the most marvellous city I had ever seen. White, all of it white and silver and gleaming, the towers rising like graceful chess queens towards the inky sky. Wolf gazed out into the silence, his elegant hands clasped loosely at the small of his back.

I flicked my tail. My what?! I whirled around until the silliness of chasing my own tail dawned on me. But there it was. Bushy, ginger, its tip the colour of freshly fallen snow. Oh, I see. It made a nice symmetry, actually, that I should be a fox in his dream.

I had encountered a lot of bizarre things in my dreams these last weeks, but this one ranked quite highly on that list. I walked, or rather trotted along the white marble that shimmered like mother-of-pearl. Solas turned and faced me then. I stopped mid-step, one black paw still in the air.

Would I ever get used to the sight of him at his full height? Maybe it was the surroundings, but from down here, he seemed not just tall but… staggering. A deeply rueful expression bloomed on his face, followed by a sad smile. He crouched down and I ran to him. I had no voice to speak out. Of course not, I was a fox. And for some unknown reason, I could not influence my surroundings the way I had been taught to do.

He reached out and lifted me with exceeding care. I grabbed our taren’hal, rattled it, battered against it so I could at least have some form of communication, but the damned thing thwarted me. Solas just held me, gazing into my eyes for a small eternity. Then he pressed my dream-fox-self against his chest, and I felt the steady heartbeat that had prevailed through the ages of an everchanging world. Warmth, and safety.

“Come back.” His voice was not more than a breath on the wind.

I woke, alone in the darkness of my room. And I knew that I could not ignore the call any longer. The pangs of my conscience were dozens of tiny pinpricks on my skin as I got dressed in a hurry. I had been home for nary a week, hadn’t even seen my father or brother again. But maybe just for a few days, just to see if everything is in order at Var’Thenerasan… Then I’d come back.

These were the things I told myself to keep compunction at bay. I wrote a note for my mother, telling her that she should give Da and Cassian my love, and how sorry I was, but I had this bad feeling… Feeble excuses. Leaving the note on a table in the entrance hall, I ghosted along the shadowed corridor into the gardens.

Long past midnight, there is a time where absolute blackness rules and the promise of dawn has not yet been made. My feet made hushed sounds on the grass. I felt like a thief, sneaking around my own home. The walls of the maze seemed to agree in silence.  

Arrived at the centre, I drew the cloak tighter and looked at the towering shape of the Eluvian looming on its stone pedestal. It was hard to believe that I had come to this point again. The hedges swayed serenely, yet their soft whispers could not drown out my irregular thoughts. My hand closed around Solas’ talisman. I hoped my parents would forgive me. But I just had to follow this path.

“So, you are leaving.” I barely suppressed a scream at the sound of my mother’s voice. She stepped from the shadows behind the giant mirror, regarding me calmly. Damnation!

“Mum! You scared me shitless!”, I hissed through the thunder of my heartbeat.

“Language.”, she rebuked me with a slight smirk. Really, parental lessons, now? “Did you think you could sneak away without me noticing? I used to scout for a living, you know.” My eyes fell on a leather bundle she held out to me. “A few things from home. Music sheets, clothes… Some of Cook’s sweet treats.”, she explained. I looked at her, incredulous.

“You… are not here to talk me out of going?” Mum shook her head, a melancholic kind of smile on her face.

“I doubt that I could. You were always too stubborn for your own good. I had a dream like this once… I stood at a fork in a road with you. Back then, I thought it was for me to decide which way to go. But I realize now that it was never about me, or my choice. It was yours.” I took the bundle from her, its weight like an anvil dragging me towards the ground. My eyes stung.

“Mum…”, I sniffed. She embraced me, so gently and full of love as only a mother can. Her touch infused me with the courage of lions. For an instant, I could have sworn that I heard the song of her spirit, both sad and joyous… Marbled with hope.

“He let you go.”, she said when she pulled back. “That was not a mere act of kindness, not from this man.”

“What do you mean?”, I asked, confused.

“You’ll understand soon.”, she stated enigmatically. “Your father will be very angry with me for letting you leave, but I believe he will come around. Just promise me you’ll be careful. This curse… It sounds dangerous, and I would bet my good arm that Solas keeps the true extent of it secret. That’s why… you should take this, too.”

Mum briefly rummaged in the darkness and when she faced me again, the sparse moonlight glinted off the silvery metal staff she held out to me. My breath caught at the sight of it. Starkly simple, unblemished. Lacking any adornment except for the headpiece which was shaped like a sun, its numerous prongs protruding from a perfectly circular ring.

“Archon. It was his, back in the Inquisition. He left it behind. It should be yours, I think.” I took the staff gingerly. It emanated a faint hum, telling stories of the magic brought forth through its former wielder’s prolific skill.

“You kept it for all this time?” I understood that she did not give me this as a mere gift. It was more than that, a subtle message. There may be hope for reconcilement yet.

“I had a hunch. Now go, before the servants notice your absence.” I climbed the steps to the Eluvian, only then realizing that I didn’t even know how to activate it _. I need to get back_ , I pleaded inwardly. As soon as I formed that thought, the talisman began trembling and called the rippling blue glow to life. Yet I turned to Mum once more, Archon and the bundle in hand, hesitant.

“Should I… Should I tell him something?” I watched her face go through a variety of expressions, before she let out a heavy sigh.

“Only this: _Mala vhenan mar alasen._ ”, she said. I did not know what those words meant, but I nodded solemnly and committed them to memory.

“I have one last question… Why do you let me do this, when even I think it goes against all reason?” To my utter astonishment, she laughed.

“My darling girl, love knows no reason. It is reckless and foolish, and yet gives us strength beyond measure. Maybe even enough to save a man from himself. Be brave, my cub. I did not raise you to be anything else.”   


	13. XIII. Intermission - Cullen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another Intermission chapter. The next real chapter will be up tomorrow I think, I still have to edit it. I don't have much to say to this except... OVERPROTECTIVE DADS! But also family values <3

### XIII. Intermission – _Cullen_

When I had set out for the Vimmark Mountains, I could never have foreseen what I would return to, two weeks later.

“You did _what?!_ ”, I yelled, horrified. I held the short note in my hand and looked at my wife as if I had never seen her before. My daughter, my little girl had returned. She’d been in this very house for days. Now she was gone again, without me getting a chance to see her, hold her, make sure she was safe and sound. Lira faced my anger without fear, her expression torn by conflict.

“ _Vhenan_ , I understand how you feel. I really do. But –“

“But you thought it wise to give our daughter back to a madman without even consulting me? Is that it?”, I cut her short. She flinched, then took a deep breath to compose herself. I could hear the agitated footsteps as my son paced the hall outside and the rumble of Varric’s deep voice, trying to calm him most likely.

“Listen to me, Sajnalin.”, Lira said, pulling me to sit down on the settee. “I neither gave her back, nor was it to a madman. She returned to us, but I knew immediately that something had changed in her. Solas let her go.”

“Why would he do that?”, I demanded harshly. It made no sense. My wife averted her gaze for an instant, flexing her fingers. She lived under the impression that I didn’t notice the tiny signs when she kept things from me so I would not worry. I’d get to the bottom of _that_ later.

“It’s not important right now. What matters is this: He gave her his amulet, you remember, the one with the wolf’s jawbone. I think it somehow controls the Eluvians. As soon as I saw her wearing it, I had this feeling…”

“What feeling?” But she ignored my question and went on as if I hadn’t spoken.

“If you had heard the way she spoke about what had happened, you would have felt it too. She was ruptured inside. I watched her during the days she was home, as she turned more and more anxious. Fidgeting, pacing, her face pinched and worried. She’d always worn her heart on her sleeve.”

“What are you saying, Lira?” My stern frown made her sigh and she took a long time answering.

“I’m saying that I’m certain you remember that feeling. When you feel as though half of yourself is missing, apart, and you count the days until its return. I sure do.” I remembered. I had known it every time Lira had gone into the fray to put the world right again, and I had to stay at Skyhold, commanding the troops. I merely stared at her as the silence lengthened. She must have seen the realization dawn on my face, for she pounced on my speechlessness like a cat on a mouse.

“Would you have me chain her down then, keep her here by force or else by guilt-tripping her, while her heart longs to be somewhere else entirely? She made her decision. This is not something we could have stopped, or even should have. It is out of our hands.”, my wife said gently, but I was far from accepting the truth yet. She had always insisted on our children choosing their own paths when they were ready for it, and I did agree. Just… Just not so soon. They weren’t prepared enough, protected enough. One day you watch them scrape their knees while racing each other to the puppet show, and the next…

“We were like that once. Young and reckless.” Lira’s hand settled on mine. Light as thistledown.

“This is different.”, I argued desperately.

“How is it different at all? I followed you across half the world into dangers unknown.” My head jerked in denial.

“He is wrong for her. She’s too sincere, too innocent. Trusting. And he’s… You know how he is. She will get hurt, Lira. And I will kill him for it.”, I told her savagely. She let out a breath that felt distinctly like a rebuke.

“You see these things in Ari because you are her father. But she has gotten so much stronger, _vhenan_. A grown woman now, who takes charge of her own fate.” I had never thought so see pride and sadness join hands, but they did so in my wife’s eyes. The sight took all anger and vigour out of me. I felt defeated. She had effectively ruined my skulk.

“He’s too old.”, I made a feeble attempt at parental grudge. Lira laughed at that. Maker, I had not heard that sound for ages. Or so it felt. I sensed that she worried about Arlenna, but also had come to a strange sort of peace with the situation. No more remained of that utter emptiness I had felt from her during the last weeks.

“He’s too old for anyone.”, she remarked archly. Then her voice turned solemn.  “I think he’s tired, Cullen. Tired and lost. Maybe… Maybe this is exactly the thing he needs.”

“So we are simply to accept it? Just like that?” Lira shook her head and a mischievous conviction came to her face. I knew that look by heart. My wife was up to something.

“Of course not. I still have a bone to pick with the wolf, and I think I know where he has made his den.”, she said, the silver of her eyes glinting. “Call in Varric and Cassian, and ask the maid to bring us some tea. I have much to tell you.”


	14. XIV. Resurgence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, here's the reunion! Ehr, the first half of this is definitely NSFW. I went to a kinky place. Sorry? When I edited through this, I actually felt embarrassed, but also a little surprised and proud. It came out alright. But this chapter also contains one of my absolute favorite passages, where Arlenna thinks about her feelings after the reunion. Every time I read it, I go all soft inside >.<  
> A song which inspired me in this chapter (and for the title) is [Resurgam - Anne Dudley](https://open.spotify.com/track/4SsC4oX1tyBUFBSy4Gbw2l?si=M4Jq1zuRTniIOWw4_kE7Tw). Resurgam is latin and means "I will rise again".  
> The flavor text here is from [Mercury - Sleeping At Last](https://open.spotify.com/track/3dWfRZfEbGvsRz3kgpnoiM?si=PNBGw5miR6ihCZhzp8_O6w). The whole of that song and its lyrics are just so fitting, I listen to it a lot for inspiration.

### XIV. Resurgence

_Yet I know, if I stepped aside_  
_Released the controls, you would open my eyes_  
_That somehow, all of this mess_  
_Is just my attempt to know the worth of my life._

_God knows, I am dissonance_  
_Waiting to be swiftly pulled into tune._

* * *

 

 

I learned it the hard way that Eluvians are fickle things doing whatever the hell they want sometimes. This one threw me into a wild spin and I fell through the void, tumbled around like a stray leaf in a whirlwind. A sickening vertigo rose inside me and I lost all sense of direction. At first I had thought that the gateways between the portals were part of the Fade, but had to revise that now. This strange place was _in between_ , some sort of dimension that flowed like water through the tiny cracks in the world’s soil. Disrupted, violent currents tore me this way and that, stretched me thin and compressed me at the same time. I wanted to vomit.

Solas’ talisman shook so wildly, I feared it would shatter at any second. Maker, what had I been thinking? Boldly using an ancient artefact I had no inkling about, without guidance. Maybe he had not destroyed the Eluvian in the clearing because he feared my parents would find a way to activate it. Maybe some of these mirrors were not quite right, their magic gone awry. Maybe they were just downright arbitrary. Solas had guided us through here once, but now I was completely on my own. No, not on my own.

As I fell through the formless fog, I suddenly felt observed, watched by something so alien that it raised every hair on my nape. I could neither see what it was, nor did I dare to reach for it. One does not wake sleeping dragons. Instead, I grabbed hold of my connection to Wolf, even though a dark cloud obscured his presence ahead. But I pulled myself towards it all the same. I sensed the dismay of the prying entity, yet had no chance to dwell on it. The next I knew, I emerged from the Eluvian. Right into the curtain draping it. My feet caught in the fabric, arms too full of the items I carried to find my balance again. So with the grace of a clumsy oaf I fell to the ground, utterly tangled up in the folds of velvet.

“Damn it!”, I cursed, digging my way into freedom. But only a second passed until skilled hands came to my aid and uncovered me with swift precision. I gasped for air, puffing to clear my vision of hair. I must have looked an utter mess. But the sheer dumbstruck expression on Solas’ face was worth everything.

“You came back.”, he said as though he couldn’t believe it. Damn him.

“Of course I came back, you fool! You’d only wolf it all up without me!”, I burst out. For an endless minute, he stayed still like a statue. Then he pulled me into his arms, hugging me so tightly I couldn’t breathe. It was this moment, when I felt our taren’hal unfold in all its countless facets, that my mind stopped struggling against the fact that I loved him. Doubt and denial left me in a deflating sigh, while my heart grew to twice its size. I wasn’t allowed much time to reflect on that realization, though. He was upon me like a strike of lightning, whisking me off the floor in a blur. I had not blinked twice when I landed on soft sheets and pillows saturated by his herbal scent.

“Solas! There are –“ …a great many things I needed to tell him.

“Later.”, he hushed, sealing my lips with his as though he was a man dying of thirst, and I a cool drink of water. My rational thoughts sought other neighbourhoods to occupy. Sure, later is fine too. By some miraculous ability, he peeled the dress from my body, unconfounded by the complex lace and hook arrangement that held it in place. A keen urgency drove him, yet he bridled it as soon as we were free of most confining clothes, skin to skin. Curious hands and insistent lips journeyed to places of me I had never paid much attention to – the slight recess between my collarbones, the inside of my wrist, the soft skin below my navel. And then came parts of me that prickled in anticipation of his touch. My breasts, firm and aching, received thorough attention, to the point that I began squirming against the solid body above, pressing my hips to the hardened sign of his arousal.

“Impatient, are we?” The cool rush of air against my sensitive nipples made them stiffen even more, sending a jolt of excitement through me. I reached for him, running my fingers over the planes of his shoulder-blades, dug my nails into the skin. Without much experience to fall back on, I gave myself over to instinct. But he had many surprises yet in store. He journeyed lower still, along the flat of my stomach and over the gentle mound at the junction of my legs. When his head dipped and his mouth searched through the downy triangle that shielded my most intimate place, I let out a cry of shock. My legs jerked and I felt both mired in embarrassment and stunned by fascination.

I heard him chuckle –  the devil – before he grasped my legs and rendered my resistance futile. And then his tongue delved where I hadn’t even dared to touch myself yet, finding the small peak concealed between moist, swollen flesh. That sweetest of spots that throbbed in exquisite waves of pleasure, making me twist and strain for more. Patiently, ruthlessly he lapped, tugged, circled it until I was sure I could take no more of the torture. I hovered at some invisible edge, toes curled into the sheets, all of my muscles drawn tight.

“Please!”, I moaned desperately. Please stop, please go on, I didn’t even know what I pleaded for. But he did. A long, agile finger probed the entrance to my body and slipped inside as his mouth became even more compelling. In quicker and quicker strokes while his fingers moved so languidly. He’d kill me, and I would die in ecstasy.

Heat blazed over every inch of my skin, an excruciating force that swept me away. I cried out and tensed all over as a bolt of pleasure shattered me, then put me back together and shattered me again. My thighs shook uncontrollably, but his hands held me steady as I was spiralled to a peak of rapture. His tongue gentled but never ceased its quest to draw out the cresting waves as long as possible. Dazed and disoriented, I gasped for air as my surroundings came back into focus.

Climbing above me gracefully, Solas wrapped an arm around my midriff and pulled me into a n upright position until I sat on his lap, the tip of his arousal pressing against my centre. Reassurance flowed into me through our link, mixed with a little worry. It shouldn’t hurt this time, it would be fine, relax. He lowered me slowly and I gave a desperate sob when his firm hardness slipped into my narrow entrance. Everything was so swollen, sensitive, overstimulated after his ministrations, and yet he went on relentlessly, pushing me lower. Down the whole length, until I thought I might burst. But truly, it didn’t hurt. Sore, yes, but that was just a dull echo of the pain from the first time. I watched what he did in a daze, riveted, bracing my hands on his shoulders.

“We are not done yet, Ren.”, he informed me in a husky voice. “My turn.” And then he swallowed the cry from my lips as he gave a thrust and buried himself entirely inside me. I could taste myself on his tongue, taste the heady rush of exhilaration he gloried in. He guided my movements to match his measured rhythm, while his arm anchored me, a hand on my back keeping me from losing my balance. At some point I sensed the urgency build inside him and he broke the kiss, breath coming fractured against my heated skin.

I looked down into his face through lowered lashes. Eyes searching my face hungrily, his gaze glazed by the heat of passion, mesmerized. I had never felt so utterly wicked. Powerful, desired, worshipped even. The sheer sense of power made me bold enough to take charge. Faster and wilder I rode him, revelling in the way his own movements became erratic and disjointed, mere acts of instinct. Another wave of ecstasy washed over me out of nowhere, and my spine arched as I pressed myself against him. His name flew from my lips like a blessing.

“Slow down. Ren –“ His grip tightened and he interrupted himself with a groan. “Gods, I –“ With a last forceful push, he spent himself inside me, the length of him pulsing at my core, his body wracked by wild quakes. I clutched him to me fiercely, so close that I didn’t quite know where I ended and he began.

This time, he did not pull away, spoke no words of regret, and I would be damned if I broke the silence lest I invited strife into our place of peace. Instead, he shifted me gently onto the sheets. We lay side by side, all tangled limbs and cooling skin, calming hearts.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, the scent of rain like the vanguard of a coming storm. I looked at the man I loved, his finely chiselled features relaxed, carefree. He gazed back at me thoughtfully, as if I was some great mystery to be solved. I had still not found a proper colour to describe his eyes. Grey streaked with mercury in the moonlight, framed by a dark band. There may have been a hue in the world I could compare it to, but I had not encountered it until now.

Our taren’hal was stillness defined. It rested inside the other’s ease. Within this fleeting moment that we call now, I felt complete. I never wanted it to end. Each part of me in the right place. I wondered if he knew that he held this wayward heart of mine in his hands, that it was all I could offer him. To be loved by a brazen girl bent on challenging him every step of the way. Because for all of his pride and hubris, I couldn’t stop marvelling at the wonders beneath. If he’d only open that hidden door at the end of the maze to the possibility of another life.

“Why the sigh?”, Wolf asked softly, his fingertips feathering over my temple, tracing the hairline.

“This and that. Just thinking about the momentous questions.”, I evaded, crinkling my nose. The corner of his mouth lifted.

“I’m intrigued. Which momentous questions does the fox ask?” The villain. Now I had to come up with a witty response.

“Oh, you know… What is the meaning of life? Once it gets difficult, does it ever get easy again?”, I philosophized. “Imagine I asked that with a beard and a monocle, in the tone of a wiseman.” Solas laughed, a sound so light and sincere, I lost my whole train of thought for a moment.

“I wish you hadn’t said that, now I cannot un-see it.” He amused himself for a while longer at my expense, then turned serious again. “The meaning of life is living. Nothing of worth is ever obtained easily. And life is the definition of worth.” I scoffed, throwing him a sceptical look.

“You’re immortal. What do _you_ know?”

“You are right of course, _ma Ren_. What do I know? I only walked the earth for a millennium or two.”, he said in the most arrogant tone I could imagine.

“Cocky bastard.”, I griped. And then suddenly he moved above me, his body all heat and mettle as it pressed mine down into the mattress. The breath rushed right from my lungs.

“Each time you say that, I hear you say something else entirely.” His voice had dropped low, almost menacing, the intensity in his eyes turning me inside out. Wolf now, in every sense that mattered. I didn’t have time to wonder about his words, for his mouth came down on mine in an encounter so fierce, close to bruising. I had little notion if the burning need I felt was my own or his. Who could even say at this point? It rolled over me on wheels of flame. No encouragement required. Trapped beneath him without a chance to escape, and I caroused in the sheer excitement that he couldn’t seem to get enough of me.

“Again?”, I managed to gasp the moment he entered me with one swift thrust, no argument. All the way, until it felt like he was in every breath, from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. I squirmed at the sensation of being claimed so completely, filled and stretched.

“Again.”, he asserted roughly. And I knew neither time nor space for a good, long while.

* * *

 

Much later, when we found ourselves sated for now, I let my head rest on his outstretched arm and stifled a yawn. It was still dark and silent outside, but I knew dawn would come soon.

“You were gone for three weeks. I barely sensed you. Your dreams were… cloaked, blurred at first. Then they were just not there at all. It worried me.” Wolf covered my hand with his. The dark glyphs had become more pronounced, much clearer, black brushstrokes on the white parchment of his skin. He’d lifted the illusion. There was no need to hide it when we were alone, I knew the whole of it. His words shocked me.

“Three weeks? That’s not right! I was at home for a week. I couldn’t reach you either, until tonight I had this dream of you. You were in this beautiful white city and I met you as a fox, but I was unable to influence the dream the way you taught me. You told me to come back. So I did.” Solas frowned, a deep concern in his eyes.

“So you were really there after all… That was Arlathan. I had that dream two weeks ago.” I jolted upright on the bed, the mane of my hair tumbling wildly over my bare shoulders.

“I lost two weeks? That’s impossible! The Eluvian pathway felt disrupted, but I wasn’t in there for long!”, I argued frantically.

“Disrupted? It should be stable. Show me what happened.”, he instructed, and I did. I let my memories carry through our link, watching his frown grow even more serious, grave. He lifted his hand from mine and cast a spell that made his wolf-jaw charm thrum like a little heart. Then he rose and slipped hastily into a pair of linen pants, proceeding to examine the great mirror. It glowed faintly now, but Solas didn’t step into it. He murmured fluent words, weaving complex magic which effectively went over my head.

“Someone is tampering with my spell.”, he stated at last after he’d finished whatever he was doing. “It’s a wonder you managed to get through without losing more time. Spirits… I let you go alone.” His hand lifted to his mouth in an agitated gesture. I felt his unease as one feels a cold gust of wind on the skin.

“Maybe we should ask Linala what she’s been up to lately…”, I blurted out in a murmur before I could stop myself. Solas’ gaze jumped to mine immediately.

“Linala? Why would you say that?”, he demanded, sounding curious. I wrapped my arms around my legs.

“My mother told me she knew Linala. Everyone in her small clan – what was its name? Kiravis –  everyone there was wiped out by some vicious animal attack. But she seemed to have survived and then joined you.”, I repeated the story to him.

“That is not what she told me. She said that she was exiled from her clan, Elethin.”

“Why would she lie about that? Except maybe because this Kiravis clan worshipped Andruil, apparently. Maybe she thought you wouldn’t let her join if she told you the truth –“, I mused, but stopped when I saw the strange, unsettling expression on his face. It looked very close to fear. Which couldn’t be. Wolf feared nothing.

“She bore Andruil’s Vallaslin… But I thought…” I sensed the effort he made to remain calm. Pulling that mask of tranquillity over what he truly felt inside. “Linala was a First Huntress in training. They often bear Andruil’s marks.”   

“It seems she also changed her name. Adelin, that was how Mum knew her.” Solas ran his hand along the whole of his bare head, then rubbed his neck distractedly. “What is it, Wolf? You trouble me when you are like this.”

“It is probably nothing… I am sure there is an explanation for her behaviour. Do not worry yourself over it, _ma Ren_.”, he placated, but I was not reassured. My mother’s words came to my mind: _This curse sounds dangerous, and I would bet my good arm that Solas keeps the true extent of it secret_. This was how he operated, keeping some doors shut while others were open lured you in. By now I grew weary of it. I wanted to prod him further, but his eyes fell onto the silvery glint between the velvet folds on the floor. The staff. I had completely forgotten about it –

“Is that… Archon?” His voice was incredulous. Leaning over, he cautiously pulled the remarkable weapon from the tangled curtain, holding it in his hands, stunned. I wrapped a silken sheet around my shoulders and inched to the bed-end.

“Oh… Yes, my mother gave me that. She said it was yours. I think she intended for me to use it, but since it actually belongs to you –“ I fell silent when he gripped the handle and suddenly whirled it around in a graceful motion that looked more like dancing than a battle move. Archon struck the ground, the floor lighting up with the rune-circle of a barrier spell. Solas’ eyes gleamed with delight.

“Good to have you around again, old friend.” A distinct warmth rang in his tone.

“You are a real show-off. Sometimes I think you enjoy making others feel inadequate.”, I piped up, cocking my head. He threw me a smile, white teeth flashing.

“So… Da’Assan gave you this. She really kept it…”, he then said more soberly. I bit my lip, deliberating if I should latch on to that comment or leave it be. As always, my impulses got the better of me.

“I think she kept a great many things, even if it does not show on the outside.”, I ventured. Solas leaned Archon against the wall, then stepped close and crouched to his haunches before the bed. His hands stroked up my calves, but he didn’t seem to be aware of what he did, his eyes on some distant past I could not see.

“Do you truly think so?”, he wondered, sounding uncertain.

“I do. You can’t trust what is on the outside with her. You know how she is. Elusive, shuttered. Actually, quite like you.” The remark brought his attention back to me.

“It was one of the reasons why we got along well. We used to discuss culture, she taught me songs… It felt… honest. She never pried, and I almost never had to openly lie about myself.”

“I guess I don’t take after her. People like to point that out a lot. I pry all the time.” I wish I hadn’t come across as surly saying that. My foot wagged restlessly, a habit I resorted to without conscious thought when I was nervous or piqued. He stilled the errant movement by grasping my foot in one hand. His gaze harboured a kind sort of censure.

“You do not pry. You challenge, and never without cause. They are different things. Prying is usually selfish.” A nick appeared between his fine brows when I rubbed my eyes and stifled a yawn. “I can see how excessively tired you are. You can barely keep your eyes open, you need to rest.”

“Hmm.”, I hummed noncommittally. “In a minute… There’s still this one thing my mother said to tell you, and I’ll forget it otherwise. How did it go? _Mal vhenan mar alasin?_ ” His expression flooded with bafflement.

“ _Mala vhenan mar alasen._ ”, he corrected quietly. I leaned my forehead against his, lids falling shut. Strange, how one sometimes only realizes a bone-deep weariness when another points it out. I was lifted and rearranged to the blankets with meticulous care, not quite noticing most of it.

“I will try.”, I heard Solas say through the haze of sleepiness that encroached all around me.

“Try what? Won’t you tell me what the words mean?”, I murmured sullenly, then added: “And don’t say ‘Soon’. I hate it when you say ‘Soon’. It’s just an excuse not to say ‘Never’.” To be honest, I wasn’t even aware what I was saying.

He spoke again, but the words were blurred and incomprehensible as sleep rolled over me. It took all of my senses with it into oblivion. No dreams came and nothing entered from the world outside. The only thing that stayed with me was Wolf’s presence, calm and reassuring and safe as he held me close, like I was the single thing that mattered.

It seemed I had not laid down my head for a minute when I was rudely shaken from that peaceful slumber.

“Arlenna, come awake. Quickly. We are attacked.”

Well, shit. In that moment, only Uncle Varric’s words managed to speak my sentiments:

“Andraste’s great flaming ass!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arrrrrrrr here be cliffhangerssssssssss!


	15. XV. Enter the Void

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ominous title, Solas-Time. Well, after the cliffhanger in the last chapter, I'll just say... Shit hits the fan. Dramatically.  
> You may know this flavor text. It's from the Legend of Korra. Zaaher quotes this from a famous air-bending guru who learned to levitate after he let go all that tethered him to the earth.

### XV. Enter the Void

_Let go your earthly tether. Enter the void. Empty, and become wind._

* * *

 

It is a common saying that disaster usually strikes when you least expect it. In your most unguarded moment. Drifting in a state between sleep and wakefulness, I lay beside Ren and let her deep, peaceful breaths take the worries from my heart. Doing this felt just as restful as a dreamless night. I must have nodded off for a short time though, when a foreboding sound called me to alert. The unmistakable clang of blade against blade. Muffled groans of pain. A high-pitched cry. I shot from the bed at once, hurrying to the window.

But there was not much to see there. A thick grey mist blanketed the ground and swallowed all of Var’Thenerasan in impenetrable fog. The darkness only made it worse. I could barely make out the silhouettes of the housings and pagodas, but at least the Sphere of Mythal provided a blurred, glowing anchor point, like the signal fire of a lighthouse. The haze could not drown out the sounds of violence from below, and with them came the dreadful certainty that something was very wrong. My people were dying, fighting some unknown foe. I flew to the bed and knowing I was anything but gentle, I shook Arlenna awake.

“Arlenna, come awake. Quickly. We are attacked.”, I urged harshly. Spirits be thanked, my fox was not one to dawdle. After a moment of shocked incomprehension, she cursed like a sailor and grabbed her clothes, dressing in a mere blur. I checked the door while she was occupied, hearing no sounds of intruders coming up the stairs.

“Take Archon.”, I said, then beckoned her to me. She took the staff and followed at my back down the spiral staircase, her hair an unruly halo around her head, face starkly white.

“What happened?!” I sensed the fear in her, a blistering black icicle. She had never seen battle before. Maybe trained offensive spells at the Circle, in a controlled environment where nobody would risk true injury. This would be nothing alike.

“I don’t know yet. But we will find out.”, I answered curtly. When we came to the polished double-doors that led to the courtyard, I turned and grasped her by the shoulders so abruptly that she let out a yelp.

“This is very important. Once we are out this door, you stay behind me, at all times. You do not move out of my sight or my cover, am I making myself clear?” My tone held such an edge of command that she instinctively went still. She stared at me, tawny eyes wide and terrified.

“Your word, Arlenna!”, I barked. I couldn’t fight while fearing for her life, fearing that she might impulsively attempt heroics and get hurt.

“Yes! Yes, of course.”, Ren finally said. I nodded and proceeded to cast every protective spell I could think of on us both, but mostly on her. Then I opened the door to chaos. The ugly sounds of battle were much more pronounced here. Cries of anguish, pleas for help, ripping and slashing of blades. Death and pain. It lacerated my spirit, calling to life an anger I had not felt in a long time. The Dread Wolf thrashed against his prison walls, raging to take control, but I quelled him viciously.

We had not taken two steps when a young elf ran by. Her face was distorted with horror as she fled for her life – and the next moment an arrow came from the depth of the fog and skewered her through the back. She toppled over, her death scream ripping through me like a dagger-strike. Arlenna covered her mouth to hold in the sob that tore from her throat. Our taren’hal bled her emotions into me – _She was killed! Dead, killed, just like that! Maker_ – Spirits, what had I dragged her into?

“We can’t help her. Come.”, I took Arlenna by the arm and tried desperately to infuse some calm into her through my touch. The blind leading the blind. Because I was anything but calm. I seethed inside. Whoever had done this would pay. We walked through the all-enveloping fog towards the sphere. Despite all efforts to shroud everything from my sight, I could feel that something sought to influence my creation.

Out of nowhere, a rider burst from the shadows and I barely kept Arlenna and me from being trampled. The giant black horse’s hooves made the ground tremble and the figure in the saddle was the stuff of nightmares. Clad in seamless obsidian armour from head to toe, he swung his deadly, curved blade at us. My spell hit him square in the chest, blasting him out of the saddle with its force. He made no sound as he disintegrated to cinders, but Arlenna cried out in earnest now.

How I had wished to defend her from all of this. She should not have to watch violence and death, watch me kill without mercy. The battle-horse disappeared into the fog like a fleeing spectre. We came across several dead bodies littering the courtyard. Almost all of them mine. People I had sworn to protect. Gone. Cut down or pierced by arrows.

Only centuries of emotional temperance kept me from going into a frenzy. Arlenna followed, her face an ashen mask hewn from white marble. She did not cry or break down, and I think I realized then how much stronger she was than I gave her credit for. My eyes scanned our surroundings constantly for more attackers, but it seemed the closer we got to the sphere, the quieter everything became. A silence only graveyards and crypts knew.

“This is no natural fog. It’s sinister sorcery. Someone…”, but I stopped speaking when the Sphere of Mythal became visible above us, like a milky sun behind clouds. And I saw the silhouette beneath, dressed completely in black leathers, longbow fastened to her back. She turned slowly at our approach. The ghostly light threw the shaved side of her head in complete contrast to her raven hair.

“Linala.”, I uttered in a dead voice. The blatant Vallaslin winding along her pale skin felt like the height of ridicule to me. She’d worn them hidden beneath her hair for the whole time she had been part of my inner circle. How could I have been so blind?

“Well, well. Look who managed to tear themselves away from whoring around.”, Linala said languidly. Ren stiffened and snarled behind me, but I tightened my grip around her arm.

“What’s the meaning of this, Linala?! Speak!” My voice was made of steel. Linala’s sharp features formed a disdainful smirk as she prodded a dead elf’s body with her boot in a lazy fashion.

“I thought I had a little more time before you arrive, but it seems the game is up. What’s the meaning of this? Aren’t you supposed to be clever, ‘Fen’Harel, Lord of Tricksters’? For that title, you are nothing but a disappointment. It was so easy fooling you, almost boring.” I closed my taren’hal to Ren so she did not share the murderous intent in my thoughts. Linala’s face suddenly turned ugly with contempt.

“I was never devoted to you, beast. But I had to pretend it so I could infiltrate Var’Thenarasan. How I despised sucking up to you, grovelling at your feet, when you were the one who robbed the world of its one true goddess.” I felt as though someone had doused me with ice-water. No. I had noticed the signs, but not wanted to believe them.

“And then you take this… this little bit of scum and make her not only your _alshera_ , but your lover too. All my efforts on freezing the bitch out were for nothing. She came back. Didn’t you, little _harellan_? Your interference called the fury of my mistress down on me!”, she hissed, her cold blue eyes locking on Arlenna.

Who promptly lost her temper. Screeching in rage she lunged. I barely caught her with one arm while my other shot up to deflect Linala’s lightning-quick curse. I managed to divert her crackling bolt of shadow and watched in horror as the repulsive magic tore up the earth as it went.

But I would not be outdone so easily. My petrification spell hit her outstretched hand only an instant later. The skin changed to brittle stone in a matter of seconds. She should have turned into a statue completely from that powerful magic, but half-way up her arm the spell just stopped and started retreating. She flexed perfectly smooth fingers once more.

“Is that all?”, she mocked delightfully. “Are you really the Dread Wolf who banished the gods? I daresay you are losing your touch. Everything you have done since you woke up has been an utter failure. Weak, fumbling. Useless.”

Arlenna squirmed in my grip like a wild thing, screaming profanities at my advisor. Concentrating under the onslaught of her fury was almost impossible _. Scratch her eyes out! Attack, burn, make her regret those filthy words!_ I had my hands full with maintaining protection for us both, containing her powers that threatened to blaze out of control, and to top it all off the creature inside me waged its own war against my defences.

But I saw with an unnatural clarity how Linala conjured a tiny ball of pure blackness in her hand. I had not felt the sensation of that magic for millennia, yet still it sent shivers down my spine and my whole being bristled at its wrongness. The Void. The utter denial of life. The great dark beyond that hungered to devour the world. Linala smiled. I forcibly pushed Ren behind me. The world stopped breathing for an endless second.

“Andruil sends her regards.”, Linala said, before she threw the aberration. Not at us, but at the Sphere of Mythal. They collided in a clash that shook the Fade for miles around. The black one shattered into countless obsidian shards which sheared through the heart of my home, this very part of myself.

I knew the pain of a lifetime in a single moment. Robbed of sight and sound, struck senseless. My magic, woven so painstakingly, waned and changed. Invaded by evil, tendrilled through by shadow. The incandescent sun that gave life to each stone in Var’Thenerasan died in suffering, devoured by the Void. And I screamed as a piece of my spirit was torn from me, a thing I had nurtured and grown over decades. The black hole that took the Sphere’s place erupted in violent currents and I heard the cracking of stone, the shattering of glass –

“Solas!”, Ren’s voice through the raging storm like a single ray of light. I felt her hands on me, her hair brush over my head. Had I fallen? The ground beneath me rumbled in agitation. “What have you done to him, witch?! Hell burn you alive for this!”

“Shut your mouth, insolent wench!” A blast and a flare of searing pain, then a dull thud. The agonized cry from the woman I loved sent me over the edge. I released all tethers and let the Dread Wolf loose from his cage. And as I did I became him, my body and mind overtaken by savage rage.

My great black paws made the earth shake as I lunged at Linala, jaws wide open to tear her apart where she stood. But it never came to be. She did magic far out of her league, empowered by the malevolent entity she served. Something hit my ribcage with the strength of a battering ram. The impact knocked the breath from my lungs and smashed me aside. I landed in the broken smithereens that remained of my sphere’s orbit rings. Chest too tight, no air. _Kill, kill the betrayer! Fox, fox is hurt_ –

A hand grabbed me by the throat brutally, claw-like fingers burying into the flesh. Linala loomed above, but the inhuman strength of her grip and the evil glint in her eyes were not her own. They were my old enemy’s, as was the voice with which she spoke the next words: Dark velvet, full of ancient hatred.

“How does it feel to lose everything, Fen’Harel? I will take all from you. Slowly. Painfully. You will die as I lived, where no light ever reaches. Enter the Void. And it starts with this, your little place where dreams dwell. Feel free to challenge me. I shall take great pleasure in watching you fail.” Then the pressure on my windpipe was gone, as was Andruil’s presence.

Despair is a force that sometimes cannot be withstood, even by the strongest, wisest or most pragmatic of men. My home disintegrated to ruins. My people were dead, captured or fleeing. And my greatest enemy, a creature driven insane by the Void, now set loose upon the world. I had failed. Despite all of my efforts to create, I had accomplished nothing but destruction. That knowledge sank its roots into my soul so thoroughly, I thought nothing could ever break me free.

_Sleep. Sleep again._ , a distant voice beckoned _. You are so tired. When we tire, we sleep. You could just let go, and never wake up._ I could. I could dream for all eternity among beings who knew no judgement over past crimes. Delight in the memories of beauty and perfection that I had gathered through so many centuries. No more regret, no more guilt, no more failure. Just vast beaches with soft sand, the endless ocean’s waves snickering softly. The water would be warm, pleasant, caressing my skin.

“No. No, no, no.” Yes, just like that voice. A whisper, so light and mild. I tried to remember a face to match with it. _Why? That belongs with the painful time. Come here instead. Let go your tethers_. I fell away from the pleasant voice. Something slipped and slid off me, trying to tug me back.

“No! You are not leaving me now, I won’t have it!” Lily of the valley. Gentle hands. I became smaller as I fell, thinner. I could hear the sea’s song, the call of the gulls. They welcomed me.

“Solas, Wolf, my love, don’t do this, not all is lost! What about me? Will you leave me now that you made me fall in love with you? You cruel bastard! It’s not fair! I won’t let you!” Threads wound around me, countless of them, slowing my fall and holding me suspended in the emptiness. Love? The word felt curiously foreign in my thoughts. _My love_.

_Who?_ , I asked of the hollow world.

_Me. I am still here._ The beach faded away and the despair returned, but now something else shone there at its core. The fabric of her pristine magic, weaving itself into me as she channelled tirelessly. She threw everything into our taren’hal, our bond. It was pure, radiant, unquestioning, just like her love. It didn’t let me go to sleep and leave her alone, didn’t allow me to throw away all responsibility. Her insight and logic were of a different sort, and yet they made more sense to me than the most complex of wisdoms. She loved me. Despite everything. And that should be reason enough for me to stay and do right by her.

_Yes_ , I agreed. And in that single word, I chose life. At times, that choice seems like the hardest one to make, and yet it can be so easy. I reached along the net she had created to catch me from falling. Upward, upward I whirled, until I surfaced from the bottomless pit into reality again.  

“Come back, come back, come back.” Her diligent mantra was the first thing I became aware of.

Arlenna’s arms were clutching my neck, her face pressed to the fur at my throat. So focused was she on bringing me back, she didn’t even think about unravelling into the Fade. I did not use the power she gave me to turn back into my original form, but instead forged glowing chains to silence the Dread Wolf’s overpowering, animal mind. I gained a moderate measure of control, although it took a great deal of willpower. But at least I would not go on a rampage for some time. As I shifted this body I was not used to, Ren jolted back into awareness and the channel broke.

I lifted my head from the ground and my heart ached at the sight of her terrified, tear-stained face. She was not a weepy person to begin with, and now I had made her cry for the third time. I nuzzled my face against her and felt a compulsive sob of relief rise from her chest.

_Forgive me. I was so close to… To giving up_.

“Never, ever do that again.”, she said unevenly, wiping her eyes. _No, I won’t_. And I meant that. Giving her a little time to compose herself, I cast a gaze around the courtyard. The fog had disappeared, so had any sign of the attackers. A slowly lightening sky spoke of dawn’s approach, but the sun would never rise on Var’Thenerasan again. It would rise upon ruins. Everything had crumbled and fallen to pieces when the Sphere of Mythal had been destroyed. A third of my Spire had simply toppled as a whole, like an overthrown chess piece. The Void orb had spent its energy and was now diminishing swiftly, its revolting aura growing fainter by the second. A hollow comfort. I counted at least twenty dead bodies in the close vicinity. I had sheltered over sixty souls here.

“Oh, Maker, these poor people…”, Arlenna mirrored my thoughts with her words. “What do we do? What on earth do we do?” I pressed to her side. To speak clearly to her, I needed physical contact.

_We burn the dead. Gather what we can from the rubble. Then I will take you to safety. Starkhaven. I have sent Sereas and Vin there to inquire if you returned home safely. I was worried when I couldn’t reach you._ Arlenna swallowed and a tortured look took over her beautiful face.

“If Sereas had been here to lead your warriors… Maybe this could have been avoided. You made yourself vulnerable because of me.” The guilt in her quivering voice made me want to hold her so badly I had to rein in the impulse to howl.

_Do not even think such things, Ren. Linala is the one to blame for this. And me. I did not foresee her betrayal, when I should have known._ Ren did not answer, but I could sense that she disagreed. She didn’t hold me responsible.

We walked among the wreckage, taking account of the dead. Now that I had bridled the curse at least partially, I managed to use some magic even in the wolf form. Nothing complex like lightning or rift spells. Fire is easier. It comes from places of anger, passion or impulse. We set the poor souls who had lost their lives in battle aflame. Arlenna helped me with it, until the entire courtyard was illuminated by flickers of green and red. Tiny lights to guide them into the afterlife.

Then Arlenna climbed through the slanted windows of my fallen tower and rummaged through the splinters and broken glass. The Eluvian had been destroyed as the Spire had fallen, of course. The piano I had given Ren as a present lay in shambles. I was much too large to follow her, and so I watched as she gathered a few books and the bundle she’d brought from home. Archon was shouldered on her back. When she exited the ruin again, an uncertain expression was on her face. She looked up at me, deliberating.

“Wolf… I know that… I know that things are… complicated between you and my parents.”, she began. “But I think it’s time that you speak to them. After all of this, you can’t think you will fight Andruil on your own! You – we need help.” Beneath the disturbing scrutiny of my six eyes, anyone would have quaked with unease. But Ren held my gaze steadily, although it must have taken her a good deal of courage. My already broken pride bristled at asking aid of the old friends I had left behind, deceived and betrayed. Yet what did I really have to lose, except my dignity? King of a pile of rubble and a great many ghosts.

“Not all is lost. I’m still here.”, Ren said in a soft whisper. I let out a defeated huff and lowered to the ground. Absent-mindedly, she raked her slender fingers through my sleek black coat.

_I will think on it… But first, I need to get you out of this mess. Linala might have retreated for now, but she will not stay idle for long._ I paused for an instant. _Climb on, Ren. We leave now_. Her face flooded with shock at the suggestion.

“What? You mean… ride on your back? I couldn’t! There’s no saddle –“

_Of course there is no saddle, I am an oversized wolf, not a horse._ , I reminded her rebukingly. _You will get used to it, and we are much faster this way._ She did not seem to like that idea one bit, but inhaled a deep breath and did it anyway. Cautiously she grasped handfuls of fur to pull herself onto my back.

_Have no fear of hurting me. Your grasp is too light, you’ll need to hold on tight while I run._ She settled behind my shoulders, legs pressing against my ribcage. I felt her anxiety as I stood to my full height.

“Damn, that is a long drop down.”, Ren commented correctly, gulping. I was several feet taller than any horse I had encountered. And also much faster _. Death rules this place. Carrion and burning flesh. Nothing to hunt. Run._ , the Dread Wolf urged. The sun was about to rise over the treeline that had sheltered Var’Thenerasan. With one last look at my ruined home, I fell into a trot.

At least in this, the animal side had it right. There was nothing here for us except bones and wreckage. Shame ate at me, festered in my chest at the thought of fleeing from it, yet my legs seemed to have their own will. The muscles strained and worked, air rushed into my lungs as I accelerated until the world flashed by in a blur of green and blue. Ren held on to me for dear life. Judging the mad sounds she made I couldn’t even decide if she was laughing or crying. Maybe both.

So much had been lost in the past, and such danger loomed in the future. Yet for now, I only knew the wind whipping through my coat and the great freedom of running at full speed. I felt stripped of all certainty, yet there was a strange kind of fearlessness that came with that knowledge. Ah, but that wasn’t exactly right. The woman on my back who cursed at the top of her voice while her heart delighted in my devil-may-care stride. She reminded me that I still had something to lose, and a purpose to make sure that never happened.

I would find Linala and make her pay for every single spark of life she had snuffed out. And Andruil. This time, she would be dealt with for good. _We hunt?_ , the Dread Wolf asked, called to alert immediately. Not yet, I amended. But we will. To take our revenge, and keep Fox safe.     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even though these events are really terrible, this is a great turning point for Solas. I think it's somewhere around here that he realizes he cannot continue down the same road he had walked before. It wasn't easy to describe his pain :/ I felt really sorry for him... But I hope I stirred some feels! And things look dire now, but fluff will always return to save the day~


	16. XVI. Narrow Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You didn't think it would be that easy, right? Hey, Andruil is the huntress after all!   
> While I wrote a certain part of this chapter, I listened to [Blood and Wine - The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt (Official Sountrack)](https://open.spotify.com/track/5Ukx5Eo3eEHiCmgNaGcf67?si=SZcpRHlkQo-crUbUp9lh8g). That DLC Intro song is just great, it builds great suspense.

### XVI. Narrow Escape

_You must never run from anything immortal; it attracts their attention._

* * *

 

We did not stop for the greater part of the day. I doubted that I would ever get used to travelling on a giant wolf’s back. The naked fear I’d felt when he first reached full speed had abated now, but it might never fully disappear. At the same time, the rush of it infused me with a giddy, insane excitement that denied to be curbed. He was so incredibly fast, eating up the distance with his powerful legs.

But I could have happily lived without the motion, the lurches, being shaken until I thought my bones rattled against each other. I gripped the thick fur as if it were the rope that kept me from falling off a cliff. Solas alternated between a breakneck sprint and a slower, much more agreeable trot to grant us both a reprieve, although I reckoned it was more for my sake than his. Physically, he didn’t seem to tire at all. But when Linala had destroyed the Sphere of Mythal and Var’Thenerasan with it, his mind had shattered.

With dread I remembered how it had felt to have our taren’hal slip away from me, how his vast and precious consciousness had sought oblivion, faded away. I never wanted to experience that hollow, bleak feeling again. That crippling loss, as though half of me had been torn away, severed. How had I managed to bring him back? I could not quite believe it myself. All that death and destruction… The people of Var’Thenerasan had always eyed me with scepticism and thin-lipped disparagement, but I hadn’t wished them harm. They had gotten something much worse, and Solas had lost so much today.

Our link was quiet, subdued. His thoughts were simple, holding the emotional turmoil at bay beyond some invisible perimeter. He concentrated on the forest, the trees and the journey of the sun over the sky, the underbrush beneath his paws. Animals had either fled or hidden in fear of the giant predator who now crossed their domain.

The ride exhausted me much more quickly than I liked. After a few hours, my hands began slipping, sore and stiff from the permanent tight grasp I needed to keep on him. Had I really been at home, just yesterday? It seemed weeks ago. Then again, somehow two weeks had passed during my journey through the Eluvian. So tired. I hadn’t slept properly last night, and not for days before that. My muscles threatened to slacken, my head dipping every few seconds as I nodded off for the blink of an eye. Little strength left.

Wolf slowed then and came to a complete halt beneath a sheltering cliff. A weeping willow had grown at its foot. Strangely slanted, as if trying to escape the shadow cast by the stone.

_We shall rest here for a while. I can feel that you are at your limit, ma Ren._ He lowered to the ground and I slipped from his back, swaying. My thighs were cramped up so badly that I fell against his large body several times before I managed to regain control over them. I walked in circles to ease the burning in my muscles, then simply dropped to the grass beside him and groaned pathetically. Wolf lay in the shade and regarded me steadily.

The sun peeking through the leaves threw dappled little patterns onto his onyx coat. I rummaged around the bag my mother had given me and pulled out some sugar-coated pastry. Many may say there is no miracle in baking, but Cook knew the magic of sweet treats. There were also ginger-cakes and raisin bread. I nibbled on the pastry distractedly until I noticed the piercing gaze of my lupine companion. He eyed the ginger-cake like a… well a wolf eyes a sheep.

“Do you want some?”, I asked uncertainly, holding out the little spiced treat. I couldn’t even blink, so quickly did he snatch it up. He gulped it down with one bite, and then a rough, wet tongue licked along the whole length of my palm.

“Ew! That’s disgusting!” Wiping my hand on my dress, I grumbled under my breath while he tilted his head in what I interpreted as sarcasm. When I’d finished eating, one of his paws nearly toppled me over as he pressed me down onto the soft fur at his ribcage.

_Sleep. At least for a few hours. You need all your strength._ I pouted at his usual pushy attitude, but the fur beckoned me as much as a comfy mattress and plush goose pillows would. I laid down my weary head, feeling his chest expand with a breath. His scent was different in this form, but somehow still familiar. It reminded me of a cool night breeze, of moonlight and rich earth after a summer storm.

_Tell me a story. About your time in the Inquisition._ , I requested. He seemed baffled.

_The Inquisition? Not ancient Elvhenan? You would be one of a handful to know what it was like._

_I would like to know about that too, but… Those stories seem to sadden you. Tell me a funny one, for now._ He was silent for a time, thinking.

_We journeyed to the Dales once to pursue a lead on one of the enemy’s generals. Da’Assan, Cassandra, Varric and me. When we reached Verchiel, we realized that we had arrived right into the yearly Grand Archery Contest. The whole city was in uproar, the streets packed with people, festival stands, music and revelry._

_The event drew such attention that even some Dalish clans had made camp on the outskirts, eager to show the puny shemlen that elves were always the superior archers. Da’Assan did not like the confinement inside city walls, or to be recognized wherever she went. Therefore we rather kept close to the Dalish than in the crowded town centre. I tried to mingle with the elves, but I had never gotten along with them. The People. They had changed so much. Speaking to them called forth bitterness…_ I sensed as he shook off the direction of his thoughts, choosing a less morose one.

_Nevertheless, one evening I met a young archer. Ilin was his name. He embodied every stereotype of an arrogant elven hunter. Bragging about his kills, annoying me to no end with his childish, short-sighted opinions. Telling everyone how he would be winning the contest, because he was the best bowman far and wide. We had quite an unpleasant conversation, which Varric of course enjoyed to no end. Afterwards, I decided to throw good Ilin off his high horse. I said that I knew someone who could defeat him in this contest and proposed a bet on it. I don’t usually engage in such petty rivalry, but something about this pompous idiot just irked me._

I had to smirk, looking at the images he showed me through the link. I was already half-asleep, but the story riveted me. I wanted to know how it ended.

_The other archer was my mother?_

_Yes. When I told her the story, she just shook her head in disbelief and asked me if I had thought about the possibility that Ilin might be the best far and wide. No, I said. A true master knows that skill will never reach an ultimate peak. He always aspires to higher goals, and never stoops to vanity. That is why you will win._

_And she did. She entered the contest undercover and claimed every single Bull’s Eye. Then she takes the winnings and gives all of it to a group of refugees who had fled the war. And as everyone was still reeling from shock, she walks away into the crowd. It was a sight to see._

_What did Ilin have to do after he’d lost the bet?_ I sensed mirth and quite a lot of gloating in him.

_He had to ride through the Dalish camp bare-bummed, shouting ‘Ir helashte mir’fugenar ubes!”._

_What does that mean?,_ I asked, quivering with suppressed laughter.

_Oh, I am sure much is lost in translation. Something along the lines of ‘I am a horse’s ass, but lack its girth… elsewhere.’_

Now I laughed in earnest. The trickster! He had enjoyed his mischief, I could tell. He leaned around and gently bumped my shoulder with his nose. _You need to sleep. At least for a little bit. I will keep watch._ Well, he had held up his end of the deal, so I obeyed.

* * *

 

The sun slipped gracefully over the far horizon when we continued on once more. We exchanged considerable amounts of information during the long hours of the night while he ran. He showed me Andruil, the supposed goddess of the hunt, and how he and Mythal had tried to end her madness, her dangerous obsession with the Void.

He also explained that nightmarish force – although comprehending something so… alien to life seemed impossible to me. A vast nothingness which would mean the ultimate end of everything, should it ever be allowed into our world. A place where forgotten things dwelled, terrible magic and malice too strange to be grasped by a mortal mind. Understandable, if it even drives god-like creatures insane. I shuddered at the thought of Andruil spending eons there. How twisted a mind would such torture produce?

_I did not think that I had pushed them so far into the Beyond._ , Solas mused as we crossed a serene, moonlit field. Grass heaved in the wind _. It may be that no other false god survived living in the Void. But she had always been the most unrelenting. She would have kept going, even if it took every ounce of her sanity._

“So this curse she hit you with was Void magic? At least we know now that Linala was behind it, and Andruil the puppet-master at her back.” He was momentarily silent.

_It is a complex curse. A part of it is Void magic. The intention to harm, to deliver prime punishment, was so strong in her that it crystallized into this, likely over centuries. But I gained some control over it, thanks to your power._ , he answered then.

“So that is why you did not turn back yet? You used my channel to get more control over the curse?”

_Yes. The Eluvians in the vicinity were destroyed. I knew I had to cover a vast distance with you, and it seemed wiser to –_ his thought broke off abruptly, every hackle raised all of a sudden. The flood of terror was like being struck by a hammer.

_Duck!_ I barely flattened to his back when the arrow zoomed past, so close I felt the rush of air as it flew.

Riders. They galloped behind us, all of them on monstrous black steeds whose mouths foamed with the exertion of the chase. They had broken through the trees on the far side of the field and were on our tail with demonic speed. And they were not alone. Beasts made of pure shadow ran at the flanks, unlike any creatures I had ever seen. Four legs and reptilian heads, a row of pointed spikes across the length of their spines. The blood froze in my veins, for I felt the hideous magic that maintained them.

Abominations of the Void. My senses wanted to shy away from their wrongness, but then they suddenly broke rank and overtook the riders, coming straight at us. More arrows. I ducked again and ripped the staff from my back. Solas ran like the wind, and still the Void hounds came closer. I held on to him as he flew, casting spells behind us at every chance that I got. Fireballs and flaming projectiles soared through the darkness and I thought I heard their impacts, but had no time to make sure.

_Keep your head down!_ , Solas ordered anxiously. Several arrows had plunged into his side and back, but he ran on as though the fires of hell licked at his heels. One of the monsters took a great lunge. Its razor sharp claws gleamed, eyes burning with a hunger that knew no bounds. I cried out in pain as the talons shredded over my thigh, ripping through fabric, skin and flesh.

_Ren!_ My vision blurred and queasiness threatened to overwhelm me. The instinct to protect myself flared so intensely that I blasted the Void hound with a wave of pure energy. It fell away from us, but I never saw how it died. Blackness closed around the edges of my world. I had no strength to hold on. It hurt. It hurt so much. The other beast leapt too, but Solas sidestepped its attack, nearly stumbling himself.

Shadows. Tree trunks. A panicky voice in my head. The pain like a spear driven into my leg, drowning out all else. Warm fluid drenching my boots. The smell of iron. Cold, so cold. _Something is very wrong_ , pure instinct told me.  

I landed on hard ground, which sent a bolt of agony through my whole body that made me scream at the top of my lungs. Discordant noises erupted somewhere close by, furious spitting and snarling. The ferocity in it should have frightened me, but I was beyond that.

I thought I would die. A tiny part of my brain yelled at me to get it together, stem the bleeding, tie a cloth around it. I fumbled to rip off my sleeve and accomplished nothing. My hands were so lifeless and numb, they could have been moths battering against impenetrable glass. I blacked out for a few seconds, only to be reanimated by the ugly sounds of tearing flesh and the agitated neighing of horses.

Snarls, snarls, endlessly. My heart thrummed like a hummingbird, and through the haze of my pain I saw the blurred shape of a wolf amidst several riders. His rage was a vicious thing made of fangs and frenzy, tooth and claw. His adversaries fell beneath it one after the other, but I drifted out of awareness long before that. I floated beneath the surface of a black lake, calm and silent –

_Ren! Don’t fall asleep, don’t you dare!_ I moaned and tried to banish the voice that wouldn’t allow me to flee from the pain in my thigh. Something tugged forcefully at my sleeve until the stitches came loose. He held our taren’hal with an iron fist, giving me no quarter.

_Tie this around the wound. Now!_ I didn’t quite know how I managed it. He kept shouting at me in my head, relentlessly, without mercy, until I moved in a sluggish daze and grasped the sleeve. I looked at my leg and almost fainted. Two deep gashes. Rent flesh, a vivid crimson that burned itself into my eyes. Blood. So much blood. There couldn’t be much left in my body. The earth was saturated with it.

_Don’t look at it, just tie the cloth!_ My arms felt as if they were made of lead, but I wound the sleeve around the leg gingerly, with as little movement as possible. Every tiny motion hurt like hell. My breath came in ragged, panicked gasps.

_Tighter. Much tighter, or it will bleed you dry! Hold this end.,_ Solas commanded. And then he bit down on the fabric and pulled. I cried out. Stars danced in my vision. He sent images to distract me, soothing thoughts, but I still whimpered shamelessly as I made the knot into the sleeve. I think it was only his single-minded determination that kept me going. The wound pulsed with each beat of my heart and I imagined this was what it must feel like to be branded by red-hot steel.

_Get on. Get on. Here, just roll onto my back_., Wolf pleaded with me. I managed to bury my hand into the fur. It was wet. I slipped. No strength in my body to even move a finger. My vision darkened, the surroundings fading away.

_Ren, my heart, please. Just one leg. Just the one. I have to get you to safety. Move, for me. Please._ So insistent. He wouldn’t leave me be. At some far corner of my mind, I was aware of his undiluted fear for me, aware that he was extensively injured himself. Arrows, gashes, bite marks. He ignored it all. Getting me somewhere warm and safe was his singular purpose now.

_For you, then_., I told him in a slurred thought. Nothing had ever cost so much effort as lifting the leg to throw it over his back and settling myself like a boneless rag-doll onto him. He rose and began walking. Limping, more like. But he dragged us both along with an adamant resolve, on through the unending forest, the all-enveloping shadow. I drifted in and out of consciousness with no real sense of time. It could have been minutes or hours or eternities. Solas held his own pain and weariness apart from mine so it would not seep over to me, but he could not hide it entirely.

_We might die here_ , I told him morosely _. In the middle of nowhere_.

_Nobody dies_. He was implacable _._ I did not share his conviction.

An unmeasured time later, Solas suddenly stopped short. Complete silence surrounded us.

The next moment, I heard the distinct sound of a flying arrow. A warning shot. It had not been aimed at us, but had buried into the forest floor a few feet ahead.

“Not one step closer, beast.”, a sharp voice threaded with a heavy accent called out.

“ _Mera faras an halal el Fen’Harel_!”, another cried.

_Dalish. Of course. Why should luck ever be on our side?,_ Solas uttered. Unease rang in his tone, and a tired resignation. I was too weak to lift my head, but took a deep, shuddering breath and spoke.

“I am… Arlenna Rutherford. Daughter of…”, I had to stop for a second. “Alaslin Lavellan. Am injured… Please.” I couldn’t go on. Dalish hunters happening upon the Dread Wolf himself in the woods? If they were part of the opposition against him, they would shoot us dead, no matter whose daughter I was. And then I heard the voice that made tears of relief well over from my eyes.

“Step aside, wool-for-brains. That’s my daughter you’re pointing your bow at! And you wouldn’t even hit anything with that stance!” Mother. A feeling I had not known since I’d been a little girl washed over me. Absolute safety. No more hurt or misery.

_We are safe. We are safe_., I told Solas.

“Let me through.” Da?! Da! The great wolf lowered and shifted a little. And then I felt my mother’s hands, the overwhelming comfort of her closeness. And my father’s arms, so exceedingly gentle and yet so fiercely protective as he lifted me. Solas stayed perfectly still, as though nobody would not take notice of him if he only did not move.

“She’s injured. A tear on her leg. Maker, it looks terrible – Was it him?”, my father growled, but I shook my head severely although it made everything veer out of focus.

“No! We… were attacked. It wasn’t him. He’d never hurt me!”, I protested. My mother hushed me softly. “Don’t let the others –“, I still began.

“Don’t worry, my cub. If he makes no trouble on his own, they will leave him alone.”, she assured. “You won’t be any trouble, will you?” This was addressed to Solas, who made a sound of keen assent.

He left my parents a great deal of space before he followed, but I knew how much willpower it took him to watch me be carried away. I simply let my head rest against Da’s solid chest. I released the controls to the two people who had brought me into this world and had never let me come to harm. Everything would be alright.

I was brought into warm tent filled with scents from my childhood. Lilac, sandalwood, pine needles. Thick, padded blankets, several flickering oil lamps.

“I’m here.”, someone said sternly, bringing a gust of wind with them. “How bad is the wound?” The They untied the makeshift bandage as cautiously as they could, but it still made me whimper from the throbbing pain.

“It’s deep, but no arteries damaged.”, my father answered, a strained edge in his tone. “Andraste’s mercy… my little girl…”, I heard him pray.

“It’s all right, it’s all right.”, my mother said. Her hand brushed over my forehead. The gesture was one of sun-flooded days and lullabies.

“This will take a while.”, the third person said. A woman. Iraya? She went to work on me, instructing my parents to help her wash the wound, prepare this or that – I really don’t know. Then she began prodding at the wound mercilessly, over and over, until I could not keep in the pitiful sounds building in my chest. They were answered by whining noises outside and frantic pacing.

“We’ll talk about you allowing a huge, monstrous wolf into my camp later, Shenlira. My hunters are on pins and needles.”, Iraya murmured.

I honestly can’t remember much of the next few hours. Iraya laboured tirelessly to heal me, while my parents alternated between fetching things for her, holding my hand, wiping the sheets of sweat from my forehead or speaking comforting words to me. I knew that Solas walked the earth bare of grass outside, his agitation like a solid thing in our link.

“I have done what I can for now. Coat it with the salve and bandage it properly. A potion every few hours, lots of rest, solid food. It should mend nicely.” Iraya sounded tired but satisfied.

“I have no words to thank you, my friend.”, Mum whispered, her voice uneven.

“And I. You have our gratitude, always.”, my father added. Iraya left then, I think. It was silent for a time. Or maybe I slept, I don’t know. Strange fragments of conversation carried over to me while time passed in the disconnected way only the half-conscious perceive.

“He brings her back half-dead and mangled, white as a ghost. Did you see how much blood she lost? She has nary a pint left in her! I want to rip him to shreds.”

“Calm down, _vhenan_. We don’t know what happened, but it must have been a terrible fight. Have you looked at him? He took a dozen arrows and just as many swipes of whatever attacked them. It’s a wonder he still stands.”

“Tenacious, I’ll give him that.” That was neither one of my parents. But almost as familiar. Uncle Varric.

I may have slept through a whole day and a night. The surroundings lightened, then darkened again. Everything melted into a grey in grey blur.

“He won’t let me anywhere near him, and to be honest I am glad. Those eyes give me the shivers, Shen.”

“But Iraya… At this rate…”  

“I doubt that she could even heal him with magic. I can see the strange curse that afflicts him. He is all tangled up in it.” My father said that, I think. It was followed by a sigh.

_Help him!,_ I wanted to tell them.

“Sajnalin… Go to Varric and keep him company for a while. Iraya, tell your hunters to lay off.”

“What are you about, Lira? You don’t mean to –“ Da was interrupted by my mother’s next words.

“I wish to try this my way. Please trust me, _vhenan_.”

I wanted so badly to listen further, but my body had other ideas. Exhaustion dragged me under, commanding me to sleep, save my strength… and I had little choice but to submit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this meeting between the old Inquisition people and Solas is going to be... interesting. I think Arlenna is going to have to sort a few things out between them, probably. :D


	17. XVII. Mettle of the Fox

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh, so sorry for the long wait. I was out of town for a week and could not write or revise chapters, so this update came much later than usually. I enjoy the conversations in this chapter. Solas and Arlenna have a really sweet moment <3  
> The lyrics of the song Shenlira sings with Arlenna are from [Harvey - The Electric Swing Circus](https://open.spotify.com/track/1BN7Ah8uzHRFErk9gMcrQo?si=r_xBUHmtRVOaWzqfVFUvcQ). I can imagine it so well being performed late at night on a lonely street somewhere in Kirkwall. It reminds me of Solas somehow, maybe the way unknowing people would see him if he visited their dreams. Eerie, mysterious... but not malevolent.

### XVII. Mettle of the Fox

_Parents will sometimes wake to the horrifying truth that their children had grown up and slipped out of their reach without so much as a warning. And one never forgets that plain disbelief when they realize their ultimate defeat, written onto their faces like a blatant sentence inked into white parchment: I have taught you too well.  
Arlenna_

* * *

 

I think the first time I truly came awake, with all my faculties more or less intact, was because I heard my mother sing. I didn’t recognize the song. Elven, fluent and marvellous and sad as the syllables interwove with each other to form the deep-felt ballad. My taren’hal to Solas brimmed with recognition, acknowledgement, and many other emotions that formed a very complex construct. It was his favourite, this song. _Forests I Walk, Shining Roads_. His presence drew closer while his inner voice resonated the melody. Like a greeting. A reunion between two people who had not truly spoken to each other for decades. Cautious, slow to trust. And yet hopeful.

I tried to move, but my leg flared with a dagger-strike of pain, and so I sank back to the pillows. A dim lamp burned in one corner of the tent, otherwise night-time ruled supreme. My mother’s song came to a smooth end and silence fell for a small eternity.

“It’s just us now. Me and Arlenna. Come inside.”, I heard her say, realizing that she had sung to get him out of hiding behind the treeline, where he had retreated to after several fruitless attempts to approach him. Mum had sent everyone away. The flap of the tent was pulled aside and a great black head pushed through the opening, then came the rest of him. He fit, but barely, filling out the spacious tent with his huge body. The coppery smell of coated blood filled my nose as he stepped towards me. Arrow-shafts stuck out from his flank like the needles of a porcupine.

“Hey…”, I managed, my voice hoarse and croaky. I lifted a hand to touch his wide forehead. His thoughts weren’t even coherent words. Just a bright white ribbon of relief to see me alive. My mother entered behind him and closed the flap.

“Lie down here.”, she ordered Solas, then noticed that I was awake. “Ari! How are you feeling?” There wasn’t much space to navigate, but Mum stepped over the furry limbs and enfolded me in a tender hug.

“I heard you sing. I think I’m really awake now. I’m so glad to see you… Everything hurts, but I will live.”, I answered. She made me drink a foul-tasting potion and then handed me a cup of steaming broth. Solas lay quite still beside me, his breaths shallow. I looked at him more closely. The semi-darkness obscured it well, but he was riddled with claw wounds and scratches, especially his ribcage and the hind leg. Mangled, lacerated. Dried blood had made clotted and made clumps into his soft fur. I let out a wounded sound at the sight.

“Yes, he looks bad.”, Mum answered my feelings. “But his kind does not break apart easily. They are much more resilient, enduring when it comes to pain and injury.”

“How do you know that?”, I demanded, uncertain.

“He told me. Drink your broth, cub. I will try to patch this prideful creature up.” Her tone was gentle. She prepared a basin of hot water and long strips of linen. Solas let his head sink to the blanketed ground with a sigh. I reached for him.

“Why didn’t you let her help you sooner? What if the wounds have started festering?”, I reprimanded him.

_I let her_., came his thought, laced with pain and exhaustion. _Not the others. Just her. And you._

“Damn your pride. You could swallow it by the mouthfuls, and there would still be plenty left.”, I hissed. Mum threw me a baffled look.

“Not the least bit afraid of the big bad wolf, I see. Your father would approve.”, she noted. Then she began to wash the dried blood and dirt from Wolf’s injuries. He winced every now and then, while the water inside the bowl gradually turned a dark russet. Mum had to change it several times before she got to the arrows. Solas endured it stoically, his pain a tightly spun ball of yarn which he held out of my reach.

_You don’t need to share this._ , he rebuked me when I tried to delve into the taren’hal. Mum worked with an untiring purpose, wrapping the bandages patiently around his midriff. He twitched when she moved on to the hind leg.

“No need to feel undignified. Any injury acquired in battle should be praised, not shamed.”, Mum addressed him. “Remember Kaltenzahn? Varric caught a great deal of frostbite that day. I never told anyone, and he’d likely kill me if I did, but I had to help him apply a salve to his bare bum afterwards. Imagine if Cassandra had to do it.”

Wolf puffed in what I thought was genuine amusement. I had to grin too. She kept speaking of inconsequential things to him while she removed every single arrowhead with meticulous care. These, she did not bandage, but merely coated them with an ointment that smelled strongly of mint. 

“They can stay airy and heal on their own, as long as he avoids dirt. Arrows make small incisions, and if one knows how to remove them properly without tearing the flesh too much, they are not deadly in an animal this size. But this tear here… Since we can’t heal it magically, it will need stitches.” She showed me the gash. It looked very similar to the one on my leg. Not surprising, since they could be credited to the same sort of beast. I was infinitely grateful to my mother that she made this effort to help a man she by all outward appearances despised and resented.

“This is going to hurt.”, Mum informed Solas while she prepared the needle and thread. He exhaled in a resigned sort of way, accepting his fate.

“Ari, do you recall that one summer festival when we came home so late the streets were empty?”, she asked, beginning to stich. Solas trembled beneath the ministrations, but forced himself to stay still as much as possible.

“Sure.”, I said distractedly. I had a hard time watching him suffer.

“We met this street performer on the way back. It was past midnight, but she still played her lute and sang this strange little song. Remember how it went?” I couldn’t quite concentrate on what she was saying. Didn’t she see that I was busy here?

_She’s trying to distract me_., came Solas’ fractured thought _. How did it go, Da’Assan?_

Mum had no magic I knew of – she could not look into his mind. But she had always known that there was a deep spiritual side to the world, to the friendships and links which grow between souls, unseen by the eye. A thing that transcends, reaches beyond.

And as such, somehow she perceived the general gist of his request. She started singing the street performer’s song, an odd tune with eerie lyrics I had never quite understood. Singing had never been my strong suite, and I didn’t claim to have the voice of a nightingale. Not by a long-shot. But for Wolf’s sake, I hummed along until it came to the refrain, which I actually remembered well.

_“So, here's to you, Harvey_  
_The weaver of dreams_  
_Stopper of clocks, the unpicker of seams._  
_Raise a glass to old Harvey_  
_Look him straight in the eye._  
_If you say you can't see him, you're living a_  
_La la la la la la la lie…”_

We got carried away by the verve for a while. Solas relaxed a little beneath my hands, listening. I lost my self-consciousness and my voice gained courage, fully joining with my mother’s. She kept stitching all through the song, and when it came to an end, I realized she had finished. I must have worn a questioning expression, for she gave me an arch look.

“Your face looked all pinched and worried. And he always enjoyed music. I thought it would take both your minds off the pain.”

_I wish I could thank her properly. And apologize. But I have no strength left to change back… And even if I could, these injuries would be worse in my true form._ Melancholy saturated his thoughts, and I stroked the side of his face gently.

“Mum…”, I ventured, but she held up a hand to stop me.

“Explanations can wait. You need to rest.”, she said, before adding towards Solas: “Don’t let her get up. I’ll know. And you stay where you are yourself. You’re better off in here than frightening the hunters.” I made a childishly rude face which did not spawn the reaction I had hoped for. She merely smiled at me with motherly warmth.

“I will tell your father that my plan worked. _Mir’vhenan sulahn’nehn meleth’ma_.” I watched blankly as my mother drew aside the tent-flap and left us alone. When I looked at Solas, I found him gazing at the place where she had vanished pensively.

“What did she say, just now?”, I asked, rearranging my pillows on his outstretched paw with care. He shifted closer, sheltering me. I let my fingers tangle into the downiest patch of fur on his chest.

_My heart sings that you have returned_. I wondered which one of us she had meant that remark for, and sensed that he wondered exactly the same thing.   

When we fell asleep, I simply slipped over into his dream. It was much easier now, almost instinct. My bare feet touched cool grass. No injuries or pain here. The hem of my dress whispered as I walked into the small grove. A foamy waterfall tumbled from the moss-covered rock formations above, flowing into a docile little pond.

Solas sat on a stone bench at the creek’s bank. Dark green ivy framed it lovingly. I looked up to see a band of countless stars wind along the sky. They gave the whole scenery a soft, brush-stroke-like glow. I joined him at the bench and for a long moment, he just looked at me in silence.

“You are getting better at Fade-walking into other’s dreams.”, he praised. I tilted my head curiously.

“Just yours. You are easy to find. For me, at least.”, I amended. He took my hand in his and brushed a kiss to my knuckles, then pressed the palm to his cheek.

“I thought I would lose you. I thought after the death and destruction at Var’Thenerasan, you would be the ultimate greatest casualty in the wreckage I have made.” My fingertips feathered over his smooth jaw.

“I see you are your usual cheerful self, Wolf.”, I mocked in an attempt at humour. Solas didn’t smile. He regarded me with those enigmatic eyes of his.

“Why did you come back? You would never have seen the horrors of battle, the violence. You would be unharmed and safe at home.” I shook my head. For someone so perceptive, he could ask incredibly absurd questions.

“Yes, and I would also be hollow and miserable. Why did I come back? I already told you that, forgetful man.”, I admonished him.

“I don’t forget.”, he stated bluntly.

“I love you. Fool that I am for it.”, I sighed, half-annoyed at his odd behaviour. But then he pulled me close, wrapping his arms around my waist and burying his face to my chest. I felt so cherished by the tenderness in that gesture. It told me that even the most driven, steadfast and solitary of men sometimes needed a place to rest his weary head. How else would they find strength to bear their heavy burdens, each day? I caressed his nape gently, the little rises that marked the way of his straight spine.

“Are you? A fool?”, he breathed almost soundlessly.

“Perhaps. But someone once told me that love is foolish. And reckless. And gives us strength beyond measure.” I had to smile to myself when I remembered who’d spoken those words to me. He looked up, his eyes alight with a keen emotion.

“I guess we are both fools, then. Because I love you too, my fox girl. Ren. My heart.” Even if I could have found my voice then, I wouldn’t have been able to answer. His hand slid to my neck and he tugged me to him, sealing my lips with his. Our taren’hal overflowed with affection, filling my heart. I slept in utter peace for the rest of the night.      

* * *

 

It took several days until I recuperated enough to begin moving around without cursing or groaning from the stinging pain in my leg. Iraya had done a great job, but healing such an extensive injury completely was quite impossible without the use of blood magic, and nobody wanted to try that, least of all my parents. The time I spent being coddled and fed enormous amounts of food which somehow kept turning up from nowhere was also a good opportunity for me to tell my story.

I remember exactly how my father and Uncle Varric entered the tent the morning after my mother had tended to Solas. They both went rigid at the sight of the great black wolf dominating the bulk of space, while Solas’ ears flicked into alertness immediately.

I held my silence as they stared at each other for a small eternity, wondering if things could somehow become even more awkward. Not by much, probably. Then, as if to some nonverbal signal, Solas rose slowly and issued a huff, before he pushed past the other two and left the tent. Uncle Varric shook his head.

“Andraste’s pale butt, he’s creepy. And fricking huge.”, he noted. “But Shen was right. He took some bad hits.” My father did not comment on that, his expression quite stern and unforgiving.

I understood him, I truly did. Mum had at least seen me hale and hearty during my short visit, but for Da this must all seem like a terrible mess in which only Solas was to blame. I dearly hoped that my mother would act as a peacemaker in this situation. Failure to protect someone under your care was one of the highest crimes in my father’s eyes.

“He defended me, Da. He really did, from the beginning. It wasn’t his fault, none of this was!”, I blurted, sounding more defensive than I had meant to. Both of them regarded me in bafflement. Da’s face lost a few ounces of austerity.

“If he is still the man that I knew, he will make his own case once he’s… back to normal.”

“Seems Chuckles got himself an ardent advocate there. It might even his odds a little. Your Little Chick can be prickly when she puts her heart behind it.”, Varric threw in fondly, making me blush to the roots of my hair. Da gave a fatalistic sigh, then stepped close and hugged me gingerly. When he pulled away, he looked me over with a thorough scrutiny that was so like him I had to smile.

“You look much better now. The state you arrived in almost gave me a heart attack, Ari. You were colourless and so weak… I can’t begin to tell you how worried I have been all this time.”, he said. The emotion in his proud voice was such that I had to swallow a lump in my throat before I could answer.

“I’m so sorry, Da. I never meant to put you through such a hard time. But things are…. Really complicated now. I don’t even know where to begin…”

But I began anyway. I told them what I had told my mother when I had visited Vigil’s End, and then proceeded to me getting lost inside the Eluvian for two weeks. The taren’hal subtly informed me that I was not expected to lie about the events that followed, although the link vibrated with shame all the same. Andruil’s attack on Var’Thenerasan, Linala’s betrayal and the destruction of the Sphere of Mythal, which then led to the whole settlement being devastated.

During this tale, my mother joined Da and Varric, listening just as intently as they did. Her hand rested on my father’s shoulder, her face grave and serious. I described our journey towards Starkhaven and the attack where I was injured by one of Andruil’s Void hounds, and how Solas had fought them off at great risk to himself.

I saw the reactions on their faces, the many different emotions as they slowly comprehended all that had transpired. My father turned thoughtful and quiet, while Mum’s expression was one of regret and sadness. Uncle Varric, on the other hand, showed some grudging sympathy as his lips pressed into a firm line. For once, he seemed bereft of his acerbic sarcasm or light-hearted joking. 

“I don’t know how much farther we could have made it without help. I can’t believe we happened upon you and the clan. How did you even come to be here?”, I ended my story, wishing to know theirs in return.

“I told your father that I had let you go back. He was of course furious, but… We came to an agreeable course of action.”, Mum explained. “You see, it was me who told Solas about the secluded grove where he decided to build Var’Thenerasan. Back in the Inquisition, a little story during one of our conversations. I had hunted in those woods when I was young, but found that for unknown reasons, most people avoided that remote and eerie place. It seems he remembered what I had made as a mere side-remark once. And when you described the general location to me, I made the connection…”

“So, we thought we would pay Chuckles a little visit, or at least move to the closer vicinity. We went to Starkhaven and learned that clan Lavellan had made its summer camp a few dozen miles outside the city walls. Conveniently, we joined them here.”, Uncle Varric went on seamlessly.

“We had a… feeling that something was not right. Like a coming storm.”, Da added, his tone dark. “It seems we made good choice of instinct.” To that, I agreed completely.

“Andruil returned from the Beyond… I can’t wrap my mind around it. Her thirst for vengeance seems to know no limits or mercy.” Mum’s voice sounded anxious. “We revered her as an honoured goddess for centuries. I prayed to her idol before every hunt. It shames me to think about it now.”

I felt a sudden rush of… kinship in the taren’hal, a keen wish to grant reassurance and at the same time frustration that he could not take part in the conversation. I couldn’t hear his thoughts without touch, but by now I was familiar enough with him to understand a part of his complex mind. Solas wanted to make amends, especially to my mother. I let out a heavy breath.

“Andruil wants to take her revenge on Solas for locking her away in the Void. He explained to me that she can’t… physically be here. Not yet. But the Breach back in 9:41 damaged the Veil. You all helped to repair it. Still, the… the disruption may have allowed Andruil to gain influence and attract a few followers… Solas thinks she bided her time, gathering power, waiting for the right moment… Then she sent forth Linala to deliver the Dread Wolf’s curse.” A long silence fell after my words. How different each individual in my family was! I had never truly realized it until I saw the wide range of expressions on their faces.

“A mad goddess is a dangerous enemy to face. But you will be safe at home, Ari. We’ll do everything to protect you. Not even Andruil is going to get through us.”, my father finally said.

I had known he would be like this. He would want me to come home, where I could be sheltered inside a fortress. He would put all of his energy and influence into it. But I also knew, with a certainty I had rarely felt in my life, that that was not where my path led. I had never openly opposed my father’s wishes before, although I had played fast and loose with the rules often enough.

Now he looked at me, his gaze filled with that singular determination, and I struggled to find words. I caught my mother’s eye, her expression torn between encouragement and apprehension. She could not help me with this, I understood that. My decision to make, and my responsibility to defend it in front of my father.

But she had taught me to be brave, they both had. I drew upon that courage, gathered every ounce I could find in myself, swallowing down the trepidation of my father’s anger. I cannot begin to describe the difficulty in saying the following out loud.

“I will never be able to tell you how much I love you all. How proud I am to be your daughter, and how grateful I am that you dedicated everything to make me a good person. Thank you, for this blessed life. Words don’t reach that far…” I took a deep breath and met each pair of eyes, my father for last.

“But I can’t come home with you. I will not hide in safety and watch while Solas suffers from the curse and is hunted down by Andruil. I am going to help him defeat her, because I am his alshera, his Conduit –“

My speech was rudely interrupted by an outraged snarl from outside. The sudden blaze of disbelief and shock in our link staggered me. Wolf had not expected that I would make such a resolute declaration, oh not at all. And to say that he wasn’t happy about my decision would have been a monumental understatement. 

“Be silent!”, I yelled through the frantic growls, making everyone stare at me as if I had gone insane. Even more than before, if that was possible. The savage protests stopped, but his displeasure burned like a sore at the roof of my mouth, or a bad tooth-ache.

“Arlenna! You can’t be serious! After all he has done –“, Da stood abruptly, spreading his hands in a fierce gesture. My mother whispered something into his ear, likely an attempt to soothe him, but he shook his head in quick, violent jerks. Uncle Varric kept his silence, yet I could see the bitterness bloom on his face. 

“I’m sorry Da. I really am. This is just as hard for me as it is for you, believe me. This isn’t all black and white and right and wrong. I don’t blame him for what happened, and you shouldn’t either! You named me I-Am-Fated, didn’t you? Can’t you understand?” I don’t know what he saw on my face, but he stilled and looked at me as though he’d never seen me before. In the heat of the argument, I couldn’t make sense of the emotion that came to his defined features. Later, I would come to understand it.

But right now, my taren’hal to Solas practically exploded again as he battered his outrage against it, taking all of my concentration. I moved to rise from the bed. This had escalated so badly, the whole situation threatened to overwhelm me. The weakness and pain from my injury denied my body its will and I fell back against the pillows with a grunt.

“Please, I need to talk to him. Help me get outside.”, I begged. My parents and Varric looked at me blankly.

“Talk to him?”, Varric asked after a stunned silence.

“Yes.”, I said, unable to keep the impatience from my voice. “I can touch my mind to his and speak to him through thought. Help me, please?”

After exchanging meaningful glances with each other, the tension finally seemed to break. My father gave a sigh that somehow sounded really defeated, before he simply lifted me from the bed like a doll. Mum pulled aside the flap and I was carried out into the fading daylight. Wolf stood in front of the tent, and damn he didn’t look pleased with me. Hackles raised, teeth bared, six piercing eyes boring into mine. I groaned inwardly. Well, what’s done is done.

My father stiffened at the sight of the huge black shape silhouetted against the setting sun like some beast of nightmare. Solas began pacing the clearing in circles as though some inner edginess didn’t allow him to stay still. Da carried me to the border of a small slope that served as a viewpoint for the hunters, while my uncle brought a blanket to settle me on. My father’s reluctance to set me down was a thing made concrete in his rigid stance.

“Please, Da. Trust me.”, I whispered to him. He looked anything but assured, yet put me down anyway. He, Varric and my mother hovered as I stretched my injured leg out before me, watching Solas’ agitated patrol with wary expressions. Until my mother, bless her, tugged at Da’s arm gently.

“ _Vhenan_ , we need to talk. Come.”, she stated in a subdued voice. Her husband stared into the distance for a long moment, then threw Solas a warning look and turned to walk away.

“You might be the strangest family I have ever met. Including mine. Weird shit just tails you everywhere.”, Uncle Varric murmured, following him.

My mother stayed for a moment longer, her grey eyes unreadable. But for some reason, I thought she looked a little smug. A bit later, I heard their quiet conversation some distance away, between the tents farther into the camp. I exhaled my relief and cautiously lifted my head. Solas had stopped his restless pacing and now simply loomed there, regarding me with a grudge.

“Wolf.”, I said into the silence. Just his name. The one I had given him after he’d started calling me Ren. The lupine features softened a bit. His head sagged in a stoic fashion as he prowled to join me. He lowered to the ground, placing his large head into my lap, mindful not to come near my injury. I was assaulted by his thoughts without preamble.

_How can you even be making such an insane decision after you have seen what Andruil is capable of? Don’t believe for a moment I will let you come with me! Look what happened to you because I dragged you into my mess in the first place. You are acting without even understanding the danger!_ I let him talk out his distress, for I knew it was no use to interrupt him right now _. Andruil is a mad woman with the powers of a god. I will not risk your life by making you a target for her wrath!_

This went on for a while, with several different urgings which were all in their own way logical and sane. When he finally quieted, I put my palm to the side of his face. By now, I had lost all fear of his unnerving green eyes and this menacing form he took because of the curse. Maybe I was the only person who would meet his gaze without unease. I didn’t see the Dread Wolf when I looked at him. I saw the man I loved. And I would not allow him to fight his old enemy alone, to fall back into his usual patterns.

_I didn’t make this decision on a whim. I thought about it for days. Maybe even weeks. You can try to talk me out of it, but you will have to chain me down in some cellar to keep me from seeing this through with you_ , I told him. I sent a short shred of memory through our taren’hal, of his face on the day he brought me through the Eluvian, and the words he’d spoken to me then: _It would make your life a lot easier if you would cooperate with me, Arlenna_. I sensed his bafflement that I still remembered it so clearly. For a minute, he couldn’t even form a coherent reply.

_I am your alshera. I was fated to be, and you know that, my wise Wolf. You should have thought about the consequences when you kicked destiny’s gears into motion_. My thought carried a distinct tint of humour. His ears flicked back and forth with what I interpreted as vexation about my sound argument. He folded his paws in front of him.

_How could I have foreseen all of this? From the moment we emerged from the Eluvian, I walked blinded. I could never tell what you would do next. You threw everything into a muddle. There is no knowing with you, only guessing._ The words themselves sounded disgruntled, but our link resonated with… marvel. Like someone examining a creation so unusual, one puzzled over how it had ever come to be.

_Welcome to the chaos of mortal life._ , I griped sarcastically. _Certainty is a luxury we rarely have._

_No, I doubt this is that. I think it’s just you_., he admitted with a flick of his bushy tail, tapping my chin lightly with his muzzle _. I foresaw your coming, and the potential in you. I visited your dreams when you were younger, trying to figure out who you were._

Of course he had. He might be reclusive and closed-off about himself, but when it came to perusing other’s dreams, he knew no private boundaries. I had never put much thought into the strange dreams I’d had as a girl. Of wolves and crystal spires, snow-crested mountains and forlorn ruins. But now I had to wonder if he had unwillingly begun to forge our bond even then, by sheer curiosity.

_Hypocrite_ , I chided him, making no effort to sound serious about it. I sensed his amusement and knew that for now, our disagreement had been suspended, even if it was far from resolved.

_Da’Assan was right. You do not fear the big bad wolf. I wonder if you are very brave or very silly, ma Ren._ I smiled archly, bending down to rest my cheek on his forehead.

_They call it foolhardiness, I think_., I retorted. _So… you were the hooded man I saw on the street, the day you abducted me?_ In all the commotion, I had forgotten about that unsettling encounter. I had felt his thorough gaze on me that day – I should have recognized the pervasive scrutiny of his eyes the moment I had first seen his face revealed.

_Yes._ , he answered gravely. _I wanted to see you before I went through with my plan. Get an idea what I would be facing soon. And there you were, in that little side-alley, bleeding your wish for solitude into the space around you. In that moment, it felt as though you were my counterpart, and yet somehow you mirrored my own loneliness back to me. Even then, I had a hard time watching you suffer. Maybe it really was fate._

His honesty stunned me into silence. Eyes closed, he stayed motionless, perceiving the feelings I allowed to flow through our taren’hal, rather than answering him with words. Sometimes words can just not describe well enough what our hearts want to say. For a time that could not be measured by any rational means, we simply shared emotions, images, thoughts. Each of these little exchanges strengthened our bond, for a taren’hal was like a sapling tree and we its tenders, aiding its growth patiently.

After a while, my thoughts became streaked with worry. _How are your injuries? Are you in pain?_

_Mending_ , he said distractedly, his mind rather seeking enjoyment in our closeness than remembering pain. _This body heals fast. Andruil has always loved a challenge. She would not want me to accidentally die in a mere skirmish. She will draw this out for as long as she can._ As so often, he faced his fate in such an off-hand way that I bristled at the supine tone. Did he place so little value on his life, or did he simply not fear death? My lips pressed into a thin line of disapproval.

_Have you spoken to my mother yet?_ , I then asked in a strange turn of thought. Of course I had my reasons. I strongly suspected that my mother wished to put the past to rest and maybe even give some assistance in what we would be facing soon.

_How would I have spoken to her, in this form?,_ Solas inquired, but he didn’t fool me one bit.

_Don’t feign inanity with me, Wolf. You’ll only embarrass yourself. Aren’t you ‘the weaver of dreams’? She practically gave you an invitation with that song. Don’t say you did not notice._ He lifted his head and looked at me as though he found me incredibly exasperating. Well, he was the one who had praised my challenging nature. As you sow, so you shall reap.

_I did notice.,_ he conceded grudgingly _. I am merely pondering the right course of action._

_That is a very clever analogy for ‘I am avoiding it’. Solas, do you really wish to leave it like this? This is the right time. What do you have to lose?_ He didn’t answer immediately, but I needed no reply anyway. I knew it was his pride that made him hesitant.

“Is keeping your dignity really worth not taking a chance to reconcile with your closest friend?”, I said these words out loud, because speaking them – even in a quiet whisper – made them a solid, tangible thing. The silence lengthened. Then –

_No, ma Ren. It is not worth it. I shall try, whatever may come of it._


	18. XVIII. Atonement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait again... I think that my uploads will be more every 2 weeks than every week from now on, life's a little crazy right now. I wanted to thank everyone who has stayed with me so far and enjoyed this story <3 You are all great!!   
> This chapter from Solas POV focuses very strongly on his reconciliation with the Inquisitor and explores his relationships to some of his old friends. It is quite sedate and does not have much plot, but I found it important for him to deal with these issues. Being confronted by the opinions of Varric, Cullen and Shenlira makes him think a lot about his motives and even question himself.   
> After this chapter (and a third Intermission chapter I have lined up) we will enter into the endgame! I have planned Redemption with 25 chapters all in all (and an epilogue after that), and I really hope I'll be able to finish it with a great finale! Have fun <3 
> 
> _Translations:_   
> _Esal'adahl - Ancestor Tree_  
>  _Fen'Andris - King of Wolves_

### XVIII. Atonement

_Is it magic that lets a mother know when her child is hurting? Or that makes a lover wake from the nightmare his beloved is having, to be able to comfort her? What is magic truly, if not a torrent of power harnessed from the Fade, the realm of all things incorporeal, of emotions, spirits and dreams, shaped to a mage’s will? Being able to communicate a feeling without words, to perceive that what links people to each other goes beyond the physical world… Well, that may be the most basic form of magic. Owned by everyone, and understood by so few.  
Solas_

* * *

 

An honest promise to Ren that I would try to resolve the old grudge between me and Da’Assan was much easier made than carried out. My wounded pride and the recent events that put me into my old friend’s debt ten times over were only one part of my reluctance. The other part was Sajnalin. After Ren’s ardent but quite impulsive declaration, the old lion’s presence felt like a solid wall of resentment, even though he rarely ever met my eyes.

In the days which followed as Arlenna healed from her injury and started regaining her strength, I stayed in close vicinity to her tent, never quite leaving her out of my sight. The aftermaths of the ugly fight against Andruil’s agents mended more quickly in me than in her. This body, in combination with me being one of the ancient elvhen, made me resilient. As Da’Assan had said, I was not easily broken, and even harder to kill. So, I walked the campsite of clan Lavellan and gained some inkling of how Ren must have felt during her first week in Var’Thenerasan.

The Dalish had nothing but contemptuous glares for me, stiffening each time I wandered by. Especially the hunters twitched in that distinct fashion, as if they’d happened upon a threat in the woods. Hands itching to reach for the bows on their backs, draw an arrow from the quiver. I understood how they felt. Dozens of families must have been torn apart as elves from clans all around the known world had joined my cause, leaving their homes.

As far as I knew, not a single one of my followers had come from clan Lavellan. Da’Assan had been a popular and honoured Alaslin, and she’d had a profound friendship with the late Keeper Deshanna. Together with Da’Assan’s father, they had seen to it that their clan stayed united and in utter opposition to the Dread Wolf’s cause.

A cause which now lay in shambles around me. I had little influence left, thanks to Andruil and her puppet Linala. The new Keeper Iraya was a resolute woman. Despite her unassuming appearance, she radiated loyalty to her people everywhere she went. In her eyes I saw the knowledge that she had been told of my failures. It was why her looks of disdain were always mixed with a sense of retribution.

My old Inquisition friends were another matter entirely. Being among them again brought very contrasting feelings home to me. On the one side, their anger and resentment was a dense weight on my chest, the bearing of which I knew I deserved. And yet, their presence eased another, much older and heavier burden inside me. The sorrow and isolation when I had fled the ruined Var’Thenerasan with Arlenna. The horrible helplessness when I had found her on the ground after killing our pursuers, her life-force leaking from the ugly tear in her leg.

Unable to save her, to bind her wounds, heal her. All I could do in this form was to drag her along with the mad hope that someone would find us. And they had, my old friends. They had done what I could not. Despite all that had transpired, I sometimes received small, covert acts of kindness from them. Varric, whistling innocently when he left a tray of sweetbreads on a mossy rock as though he’d forgotten about them. Sajnalin, letting me sit near him as he read through letters or answered them. He never acknowledged me in any way, yet he also did not openly walk away. That act in itself was enough for now. And Da’Assan… It had been her who had sent all others away and patched up my wounds without any qualms. 

As I sat at the camp’s edge, my tail neatly folded around my paws, I watched the comings and goings of the elves with a strange sense of jealousy. My followers had never moved or spoken to each other with such familiarity, with this informal ease that I’d witnessed in this particular clan. Maybe I had pushed them too harshly.

Or maybe it was as Ren had pointed out to me several times now. A solitary creature by nature, I had never truly shared a genuine part of myself with them. Always separate from the ones who swore loyalty to me, but what kind of loyalty can truly be inspired by a leader who decides to undergo the most important passages of his path alone? Have I ever trusted them, at all?

_Do you ever not take yourself too seriously? Allow some room for flaws?_ How liberating would it feel, to set down this heavy crown and just… be. I let out a sigh that seemed to be made of many small sighs, each of them carrying a different sentiment.

The tent flap opened and Arlenna came through, braced by Varric. She hobbled like a drunk person, avoiding to put weight on the injured leg and leaning into his support. _Ma Ren_. I wish so badly that I could be more useful right now. I have put you through so much…

“I’m not so sure this is a good idea, Chick. Your creators might thrash me good for letting you get out of bed.” Even from my tree-shadowed place on the other side of the little field, my enhanced senses picked up their conversation. Ren grumbled indistinctly.

“Damn this leg! I can’t sit around all day, it drives me nuts. This is just taking too long!”, she complained. Varric held her steady as she hopped a few sloppy rounds on the field, wincing all the time. Her pain trickled through our taren’hal, but so did her adamant resolve not to let it stop her.

“It’s called healing. It usually takes a little longer than a few measly days. Don’t push yourself, Ari. Your strength will return in time.”, the dwarf said in a serious tone, helping her to sit down on the blanket-draped stump of a tree. She inhaled several deep breaths, the beauty of her face spoiled by a look of displeasure. Typical Fox.

“So, what is it like, being some big-shot Conduit of the Fade?”, Varric wondered humorously. At her surprised expression, he added in a mock dramatic tone: “The dwarves of yore had dealings with the ancient elves. Alas, a few old carvings and texts remain of the auspicious arcane leaders, who were never seen without their so-called Conduits.” He smiled. “I researched an old stone relief in Orzammar, on a mere long-shot. It’s how I learned about that archaic title. Alas! What is it like?” Arlenna laughed.

“’Alas’? Uncle, you sound like a moron!”, she retorted, then turned sober. “It’s actually quite… instinctive. I can see magic, Varric. I have to concentrate, but I can actually see it. It’s like a delicate net that covers and connects everything. Sometimes, I can grab it and make a bridge. But more often I get a bit… carried away. I still have much to learn.” He regarded her with a reflective fondness.

“That sounds like you. What about the dealing with a self-important god part?” Of course, he would pull out the cutting comments. During our journeys, we had bickered a lot, an endless sparring of words. He had been a worthy opponent. Ren became pensive, her tawny eyes flickering to my half-hidden form in the shadows.

“Not a god. And not just a man either. Nothing is ever easy with him. I am figuring it out as I stumble along, mostly.”, she murmured in a sullen voice.

“I have a feeling you are more successful at it than any of us.”, Varric noted with more than a bit of pride. Yet naturally he had to destroy it with a sarcastic addendum. “But the eyes, Chick. Just too creepy.” Ren grinned at him, white teeth flashing.

“You’ll get past it. Don’t be too hard on him, uncle. He lost everything in a matter of hours. It was horrible, to witness that.” The merry expression disappeared from her face as she remembered my mind fleeing towards Uthenera, the eternal waking dream. My people’s way of leaving life when they tired of it. I sighed inwardly, not for the first time very glad that Ren hadn’t allowed me to fade into oblivion.

“And the Veil?”, Varric asked, his voice low and worried. To this question, Arlenna stayed silent for the longest time yet. When she spoke again, she sounded uncertain.

“I never agreed to that. And now… It’s complicated.” I had the feeling she wanted to say more, but their conversation was interrupted.

“Arlenna! You are not supposed to be out of bed yet!”, came Sajnalin’s harsh call. Even now, he struck an imposing figure in full armour – a lighter sort than the one during his command of the Inquisition’s forces. I had always been a little impressed how he managed to don something so heavy and constricting like a second skin, moving with an ease that only came through life-long experience. He caught sight of me almost at once, his strict gaze narrowing.

I did not fear him, I never had. Fear and respect were things which not necessarily joined hands. Respect I had in quantity for his singular willpower. I had witnessed it first-hand twice, how he had defeated a powerful demon of despair by sheer resolve. And then again when he had stopped Jealousy in its tracks, an even more cunning and hideous creature.

I’ve even been the subject of his lockdown once, not so long ago. But I was no demon and still had a few tricks up my sleeve. Yet I would never want to meet him head-on in true combat. He was a warrior of exceptional skill, and his age had not taken much of his prowess, as I had learned a little too directly when I had abducted Arlenna.

While father and daughter argued on about the right amount of time to lie around aimlessly, Da’Assan strolled up from the path to the main camp. She held the reins of a slender-legged bay horse. A colt, by the spring in his step and the energetic way he kept cantering at her side. Arlenna turned curiously, a humorous expression on her face. It seemed I witnessed something everyone but me was quite familiar with.

“You really should let the apprentices train their own horses, Mum.”, Ren threw in as Da’Assan led the animal into the circular, grass-covered space.

“The aspiring Alaslin are all sorry excuses for horse trainers. This one has been acting up, I hear. He’s young, only three.”, my old friend explained, climbing into the saddle fluidly. Her heart-shaped face showed some subtle signs of aging, yet her movements were still those of a woman who had spent half her life on horse-back. The colt danced nervously beneath her, but she soothed him by some mysterious way I had never quite figured out.

“Three, huh? Adolescence can be so tedious.”, Varric joked, which made them all laugh. We watched Da’Assan ride the young animal in circles around the field. She hummed some wordless tune in rhythm with the mount’s trot, only using the reins whenever he accelerated against her commands. After a while, they attuned to each other, moving in a light-footed unison. I had no notion how she managed it. But the simple enjoyment in the exercise infected me, and I noticed with some surprise that my tail had whirling up stray foliage as it flicked around without pause. My wounds were healing well, and I yearned to stretch my legs again.

Da’Assan glanced in my direction, and I had a distinct sense that she had noticed my interest.

“I wonder, Strider. Could a spirited colt like you outrun a tired old wolf?”, she suddenly said aloud, making everyone’s brows shoot upward. Tired old wolf? Had I heard that right? I came to my feet and shook out my coat, yelping in what I hoped sounded like a biting retort. Strider pranced in an agitated way when he saw me, yet she murmured fluent, melodic words to him until he relaxed. Dalish horses were usually bred and trained to feel at complete ease around animals, since the elves often tamed wolves to assist in hunting and tracking. I guessed that despite all that, Strider had never seen a wolf this big before. But Da’Assan had it all under control.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that?”, she called, most certainly to me. I issued a grumble this time. Are you challenging me, Da’Assan? Her face broke into a wide smile, making her look like a reckless young woman again.

“I’ll be back soon.”, she told her stunned family. And then, without warning, she kicked Strider into a run. The mount lunged forward in a mere blur, and before I knew it they flew past me into the woods.

“Lira!”, Sajnalin yelled after her in disbelief, but I paid him no attention. I was on her trail in a matter of seconds, accelerating to match her speed as she galloped through the emerald maze. She was swift, navigating between the moss-covered trunks and sun-dappled underbrush without slowing. Lengthening my stride, I caught up with her soon and fell into suite at the colt’s side, leaving the young horse a good amount of space.

Strider neighed in alarm, obviously not happy about the close vicinity to such a large predator. But his rider sat the saddle and knew no fear of me, which seemed to reassure him. We ran. Just ran, no direction, no goal, no real reason to run at all, except for the excitement of it. I was reminded of the many journeys we had undertaken, spending hours on horse-back as we traversed the great wilds of the world. It was impossible to catch her when she decided to scout out the roads. She would simply disappear into the bushes and then turn up again behind us, like an elusive shadow. We never puzzled out how she did it.

I sensed the song of her wild spirit as we raced each other, rejoicing in the moment. I sang it back to her, wishing to communicate that I had missed her company, her simple, unquestioning friendship. For a fleeting little while, it was exactly like old times. My delight was answered by bafflement and wonder through the taren’hal, then Ren pulled back from it a little, as if she did not want to intrude.  

Da’Assan decelerated then and I overtook her, circling back in a wide arc. She reined Strider into a rhythmic canter, watching me return.

“Show-off.”, she commented, struggling to catch her breath. She had exerted herself.

“Twenty years ago, I would have raced you to Starkhaven and back. Time is cruel.” Worry entered my carefree thoughts when she flexed the gloved fingers of her left hand. It must have somehow shown, for she threw me a chastising look from the corner of her eye.

“Don’t look at me with such regret, as if I’m a decrepit old lady. It makes me forget that I should be angry with you.”, she sighed. I shook my head in obvious denial. What I regretted was that the scars left behind by the Anchor still pained her. We re-entered the campsite at a much saner speed than when we had left it. Sajnalin stood on the field, his arms tightly crossed, frowning. He ignored me completely, addressing Da’Assan instead.

“You haven’t changed a bit, savage elf. Racing off into the forest like that.”, he grunted as he helped her out of the saddle. I slunk past him to Ren, who was trying hard to hide her smirk, and failed at it pathetically.

“Had your fun?”, she whispered, pinching my ear gently as the half-serious squabbling behind us went on.

_I had._ , I answered earnestly.  

* * *

 

That night I lay in the tent with Ren’s head pillowed to my chest, her fingers grasping the smooth fur, close to my heart. I let my spirit wander the Fade and sought my old friend’s dream between the little starry clusters of other minds. There you are, Da’Assan. Her husband’s watchful presence was close by. When the demon-possessed Orianna had invaded their dreams, I had taught them both how to guard against such intrusion. Now, I met no resistance as I crossed the border into her dream.

She waited in a small clearing, surrounded by a circle of aspen trees. One of them had grown on a slope overlooking a silvery river. It felt strangely restful here. Untouched. She had always been more at ease in places where nature ruled instead of man. I stepped closer, then halted, hovering.

“This is my sister’s _esal’adahl_. I buried her here. Well, her ashes. My husband said it would be a good place to lay her to rest. Among all these living things.”, Da’Assan said thoughtfully. “I mourned her, despite everything. I didn’t mourn you when you left. You weren’t dead. You were out there, creating a gulf between our people. It seems you have a tendency for dividing things, Solas.”

“Da’Assan…”, I began, but she held up a hand to stop me, still facing the white-barked tree.

“I am so tired of this grudge.”, she confessed in an exhausted voice. This time, I went to stand by her side and she turned, meeting my eyes. “I don’t want to be angry with you anymore. It’s like poison. But I shall talk, and you will listen. You owe me that.” I nodded my solemn assent. She took a deep breath.

“I wondered so often, when I remembered our conversations, how many times you had lied to me. I had trusted you and thought you trusted me in turn. Imagine how it felt, realizing that you have been made a fool of so completely. Had I ever really known you at all?”

“You have. I tried to apologize to you –“, I said, to which she bowed her head a little.

“Yes, you did. Many times. Yet all those apologies have no meaning, because you kept to your conviction to resurrect old Elvhenan. My old friend, the loss of you hurt for a long time, made me doubt myself. But my anger is for a different reason. You walked this world like the ghosts you carry with you everywhere you go. You have never really woken from Uthenera, have you?” She regarded me critically, her grey eyes sharp and clear.

“Look at this.” Da’Assan pointed at the one aspen growing close to the riverbank. “ _Esal’adahl_. Our people prevail. They do not need to be resurrected, Solas. Why do you move backwards, borrowing trouble from the past? Those who suffered under your choice are long gone now, even their bones turned to dust. They don’t remember. What loyalty do you have to that pain? You divide what is left of the People, when what they truly need now is a leader to unite them.” She spoke these meaningful words so calmly. Her quiet stillness was in such contrast to the turmoil of thoughts that plagued me, I suddenly realized how tiresome a person I must be.

_Whatever world you make, it will never be the same as before! Too much has passed, too much has changed!_ Arlenna’s candid honesty came to my mind.

_Everything you have done since you woke up has been an utter failure._ , Linala had said.

Had I failed because I had chosen the wrong path? I had always thought there was no other way. Yet have I truly considered them all, or has my selfish wish to redeem myself blinded me? The Breach and Var’Thenerasan… Was I insane to be repeating the same course, over and over, hoping for the right end, like a snake biting its own tail in a vicious circle? I rubbed a hand over my face, exhaling roughly.

“Time sometimes has this funny way of making something beautiful out of a violent, angry thing. If you do not let this go, it will consume you, body and soul. And you will break my daughter’s heart.” I found her looking at me as openly as she rarely ever had. She knew I could make no promises to her, could not make such monumental decisions as long as Andruil was still out there. But I could apologize, in person this time. Cautiously, slowly, I lifted a hand and placed it on her shoulder.

“ _Ir abelas, Da’Assan_.”

“ _Mar’hamin ar las’enaste nahlen, Fen’Andris_.“ A great weight fell from my shoulders, like the shedding of a heavy cloak. Such was the power of forgiveness. But the last thing had me raise my brows at her.

“King of Wolves? Are you mocking me?”, I asked with no trace of severity in my voice.

“It seems appropriate to change your Las’amelin, so you will be reminded of a better path that could open for you.”, Da’Assan remarked, tilting her head.

“I was never meant to be a leader. And wolves have no kings.”, I retorted in a chiding tone. She sighed as though she found me tedious.

“Do you think _I_ was meant to be a leader?”, I watched her throw up her hands in a helpless gesture. “The mantle of leadership is not something anyone is ever _meant_ to wear. And it will take someone who can make kings among wolves to unite our scattered people. Honestly, who would have led the elves in your new Elvhenan? It’s not that much of a difference.” I frowned at her exasperating logic.

“I had never really… planned further ahead than defeating the false gods. And now… Andruil’s vengeance poses a much more immediate problem.”

“Yes… And you are dragging Arlenna right into the middle of it all.”, she shook her head, then went on. “It seems I have to pull out some old tricks to mellow Sajnalin’s paternal jealousy so we can grant assistance.”

“No, I –“ But I stopped short, remembering what Ren had said to me about keeping my burdens to myself. “I will speak to him myself.” This earned me a baffled look from my old friend.

“Alright, as you wish. But believe me, you want me there when you do. Now, I think we will leave it here. I can sense my husband prowling about because he noticed our little talk.” I could not suppress a smile at that and was glad to see her mirror it. She turned to the tree once more, and I caught the glint of a pair of eyes between the shadowed bushes. Fox eyes. Ah, there was another visitor, too curious for her own good. As I faded from the dream, I heard Da’Assan call out to me:

“Oh, and Solas. Don’t get my daughter hurt again. I will not save your hide a second time.”

I woke into darkness, the amusement at that last remark still curving my lips. A slender, warm hand rested on my breastbone, soft hair tickled the skin of my arm and shoulder. Skin… I took one deep breath and a long moment to enjoy being my true self again. Then I pulled the blanket from Arlenna’s side to cover me too and enfolded her in the circle of my arms, knowing only relief that I was able to do so once more.     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Mar’hamin ar las’enaste nahlen. - I have already forgiven you. (Or: You already have my blessing)._


End file.
